Dragon's Hero
by ChaosX97
Summary: A young Hiccup is just now discovering his role as the village outcast on Berk. Distressed, he rushes into the woods where he finds a black baby dragon that he befriends. Little does Hiccup realize that this meeting unlocks a destiny unlike anything the world has ever known, one that will change him forever. Inspired by 'Dragon Rider' by xxsnowfallxx.
1. Chapter 1

**All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.**

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><p>Heroes - what is it that defines them? How do they choose what battles to fight and who to save, or is worth saving? What challenges must they face in order to find a hero's strength inside of them, and just what is that strength? These are all questions that one boy would eventually find the answers to, and with no lack of struggle in the process.<p>

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><p>It was a normal day like any other on the island of Berk, the sunlight peeking in through the clouds offering little warmth to counteract the cold winds blown forth from across the ocean. The chill was biting, but to the inhabitants, Vikings, it mattered little. Vikings were tough, resilient people that were more than used to hardship and could brave anything nature threw at them, as they had since their ancestors first sailed here three centuries ago. The village that stood now after seven generations of Viking legacy was a testament to the stubborn persistence they maintained in the face of their greatest threat, the dragon scourge.<p>

Vikings and dragons had been bitter enemies since what could be considered the dawn of time, their battles endlessly raging on in the raids that raged in the dead of night and left their little tribe in tattered ruins. Houses that would take days to build would take more days to be built again after full nights of axe-swinging, fire blasts and wayward flying bodies from every direction, and animals would be abducted by the wicked beasts and meet their doom inside their vile stomachs. The cycle of kill or be killed was one without end, yet it was something that, for whatever reason, Vikings relished in, in fact it was something they based their whole lives in even if no one would care to admit it. A dragon's blood on their blade and its death on their hands were marks of everlasting glory that every Viking could be proud of and every Viking-to-be yearned for.

Yet there was one who many believed would never know this great feeling, one whose very existence stood to defy all tradition and bring eternal shame unto their little island. And unfortunately for everyone, it was the one person who absolutely could not afford to be the shame that he was. The chief's son, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, already a boy of seven years and yet he could easily be claimed the worst Viking Berk had ever seen in all the years it had somehow managed to remain standing.

Where most Vikings were built like houses with arms as big as tree trunks, Hiccup's build could only be compared to that of a splinter, and was about the size of one, too. Even the other children his age were already capable of lifting smaller weapons over their heads, whereas he was lucky if he could lift a bludgeon off the ground. People were already calling it quits on any kind of future the boy had, and already had their bags packed for the dreaded day when the little boy would be named chief. They would sooner sail to the edge of the world than let themselves be governed by a scrap of a boy, especially one that would sooner hunt for trolls than hunt dragons.

His father, Stoick the Vast, the current chieftain, could not allow his boy to go on as he was, so around two years ago, the boy was made the apprentice to the village blacksmith. The smith in question, his longtime friend Gobber, was highly reluctant of the idea at first. The truth is, Hiccup was not only weak but clumsy as well, and in a room full of sharp, heavy, dangerous weapons as well as a smoldering hot forge, well, the possibilities of what could go wrong were endless. Stoick, stubborn as he was, insisted that this was the only way to get those silly ideas of pretend flying and pursuits of fantasy creatures that he would spend hours doing out of his little head. That, and he figured spending the whole day pounding metal would be the best way to get some muscle on his bony little limbs. Two years later, though, no luck.

In fact, it was just a few months ago when the seeds of disaster really took root. Apparently Hiccup had been getting ideas behind his father's back. He had gotten his own little spot in the back of the forge, where he started drawing out crazy and outright stupid ideas for perplexing, hazardous machines unlike anything the Vikings had seen. The first one he built, an automatic bow launcher, ended up puncturing holes through five houses, and broke through barrels of their food supplies, making the fish stored inside easy pickings for the dragons during the raid.

Everyone in the village was absolutely furious with him, and some of the particularly nasty ones pelted him with stones and rotten fruit. The angry glares, shouting and slapping over the head hurt, but not as much as those he got from his father. Hiccup swore he had never seen his father, the man he looked up to and admired so greatly, so ashamed in his entire life.

Hiccup was just watching the village from out through his window, looking at the rest of the village before him. Ever since the incident, he had been confined to the house and forbidden to leave except for working in the forge with Gobber. Especially during the raids that had come since – Stoick would just lock him inside the house and leave him alone, threatening him with severe punishment should he set even one foot outside.

Not that Hiccup was all that thrilled about leaving at the beginning, the second he did he'd be shouted at and mocked and laughed at by the other kids his age. But now, looking out at the daily on-goings of the village, of the women pushing carts filled with apples, men hammering in wood planks to repair their houses and lifting barrels of mead, and boats sailing out with nets armed to bag more fish, he was starting to get bored.

What made him most bored was looking out at the kids playing in the village square, pretending to be dragon slayers. There was the twins Ruffnut and Tuffnut, who loved chaos and destruction so much, and Fishlegs, the timid dragon expert, pretending to be the dragons, and Snotlout, Hiccup's cousin and number-one bully, and Astrid, Hiccup's old friend, as the Vikings. Ruffnut and Tuffnut would take whatever excuse they could to break things, and they were taking their play a little too far, to be honest. They were smashing into walls, taking rocks and throwing them into houses, and tackling people like there was no tomorrow while pretending to roar and breathe fire. Fishlegs was trying the same, but he was so quiet his roars came out as little more than whimpers. Snotlout had no trouble pounding him into the ground, punching him over and over in the face screaming the same curses any Viking would to an actual dragon while laughing arrogantly as he did so. Fishlegs shook his legs and kept telling Snotlout to quit it and he was done playing, but the stronger child just kept on, saying there was no mercy for dragons.

Astrid on the other hand, was being much more serious, already having pulled both the twins into painful submission. If Hiccup didn't know better, he could swear someone forgot to tell her they were only playing a game. Nonetheless, everyone else just stayed out of the way, especially their families, who were gathered around watching. They actually encouraged this kind of rough play, laughing when the 'dragons' cried out in misery. They were always saying such roughhousing was the best way to prepare them for adulthood, when they would take their parents' place on the battlefield.

Even if only just to get beat up like he always did, Hiccup wanted to play with the other kids. It wasn't his favorite game, but he was willing to forego pleasure just to have some company. He didn't know why, but something about Vikings killing dragons always bothered him, even when his dad and Gobber told him it was the greatest achievement of a Viking's life and he would be doing the world a favor by ridding it of those beasts. More than any of that though, he wanted to play with Astrid, who had been giving him the cold shoulder and ignoring him for the longest time.

"Daddy, can't I go play outside with the other kids?" Hiccup asked back to his father, who was back over at the table reading over documents stating village damage and inventories. The man appeared to have a headache the size of the mountain on the island if the irritated look on his face and the annoyed gaze he had were any clue. He had an ice block to his head, using the cold temperatures to soothe the pain. The drops of water were already falling down his face from the heat of his body to the side.

"And make a bigger mess of things?" His father angrily growled. "You'll stay put right there until I say so and not a moment sooner, am I understood, boy?" Hiccup's father, between his greater size than any other Viking on the island and his fiery red beard, had to be the most intimidating man in the world. Hiccup himself couldn't help but flinch at the tone his father used, his father had always sounded… drained before, now he seemed completely annoyed.

"But I just wanted to help you guys out." He said, sinking down into his chair by the window.

"Help?" Stoick exclaimed, narrowing his eyes while just barely glancing. "You call what you did 'help'? Do you know what your foolish little shenanigans cost us, Hiccup?"

"I said I was sorry… like a hundred-million times, to everybody." Hiccup whispered.

"'Sorry' doesn't fix all those people's homes," Stoick shot back as he rose up from his seat and glared at the boy. "'Sorry' doesn't get back all the food you let those vile creatures take that took our men days to collect. 'Sorry' doesn't make up for the fact that you made a mess of everything!" He all but shouted right into his face.

Hiccup was on the verge of crying by now, his father never yelled at him like that before. These days, it seemed like his father hated him, but Hiccup couldn't understand how it could be because of just one mistake. Plenty of people made them, even his father, and he was just a child, but when he messed up, people shouted and screamed. To say the least, he was terrified that his father, the man who popped a dragon's head right off its body when he was a child, the man who could shatter boulders with his head alone, was so harshly judging him. Especially when the only reason he did it was to help and make this very same man proud.

Hiccup tried to say something, but his breath halted while any possible answer died in his mind the second he looked back into his father's cold stare. He continued to back away slowly, hoping he could just dissolve into the wall. All he could do was look away and hope his father wouldn't see the little stray, frightened tears that threatened to spill. Vikings never cried, he always said.

Stoick failed to notice even his son's fear, instead only scoffing while he returned to his work. "I have more important thing to do than to clean up after you, Hiccup. If you're ever going to be chief of this village, you're gonna have to learn to take some responsibility for your actions."

Hiccup frowned and turned away to look out the window again, his father's hypocritical statement stuck in the recesses of his mind. How was he supposed to take responsibility when he was constantly locked up in the house not allowed to even set foot outside? He wondered for a moment if his father wanted to keep him inside just so he wouldn't have to deal with him when he went out on his rounds. His throat seized and his fingers clenched at the thought while he tried to reassure himself. His dad wouldn't do something like that, right?

He felt it was a bad idea, but he had to ask anyway. "Well, I can go out… soon right?" His voice came out as a small whisper, trembling somewhat, afraid to rouse the anger his father had already built up. It seemed he was worried for nothing though, or rather he couldn't tell, since his father ignored him and just continued to review the papers.

"Well, don' yu two look cozy?" Came a voice from the front of the house.

Stoick lifted his head while Hiccup's turned around for them both to see a man almost as large as Stoick standing through the open doorway. He had a dirty blond mustache, soot covered rags for clothes, and a stone tooth in his mouth. What would grab anyone's attention if they were to meet this man for the first time, though, was the arm and leg of his that had both been replaced by makeshift prosthetics. The leg was nothing more than a wooden peg while a rusty but still sturdy hammer was in place of his hand. He had lost them both in the wars with the dragons some time ago in his youth, and they had since been replaced while he was stuck in the forge. But slightly disabled as he was, it didn't make him any less of a fighter, or any less cheerful of a man. He supplied a happy grin looking at both father and soon with both his hammer and remaining hand at his hips.

"Hi, Gobber!" Hiccup said with as much happiness as he could muster given the scolding he received earlier. Stoick only grunted to acknowledge his presence.

"Don' get too excited, it's just your favorite blacksmith." Gobber mumbled while rolling his eyes. He went over to see the boy who was just now getting out of his seat and slowly jogging over to him. "An' how's ma favorite apprentice?"

"I'm fine, Gobber." Hiccup said a little sadly. Usually, it would be up to the parent to pick up on emotions like these, but in this case, Stoick remained true to his name and continued to read in silence. Gobber, however, was a bit more sensitive to the boy now that he had gotten some time with him in the forge and they could work on weapons together. He had to admit, the boy had a sharp mind and keen attention to detail for his age; he still had a ways to go and could still hardly carry a single weapon, but the swords he polished did come out with a nice shine to them.

"All right, what's wrong, ya little fishbone?" Gobber asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Hiccup's smile vanished instantly and he looked down to the ground with downcast eyes. "Dad says I can't go outside. He doesn't want me to cause trouble for anyone."

Instantly, Gobber's face turned serious when he turned his look to Stoick; the man in question just continued to sit there as if he was the only one in the house, just reading his papers with more focus than though possible, even tracing the strokes of the charcoal used for the writing. Gobber just stood there waiting for a response from the chief, but all he was met with was silence. Gobber had even tried clearing his throat for a response, but Stoick just grunted again. A typical Viking conversation, Gobber thought, a few noises saying it all.

"All right, Hiccup, you jest head on over to tha forge and sweep the place up. Let me have a little talk with chief bossypants over here." Gobber said while scooting Hiccup through the door with a light push to the boy's small back with his hammer.

"But-" Hiccup turned back to complain.

"Ah, the only butt you should be worried abou' is yar own if you don't scooch on over and do yer job. Trust me, I can handle this stubborn old muttonhead." Gobber said with a wink.

Hiccup's smile returned in a form almost as small as him. "Okay, Gobber. Don't worry, I'll make the place super clean by the time you get there." And with that the little boy rushed off to the forge as fast as his spindly legs could carry him.

"It better be, or else you'll be in some deep yak dung by the time I get there!" Gobber called back cheerfully. He watched Hiccup go down the steps of the small hill that lead up to the chief's house down to the village square. Before long, the boy vanished into the multitude of houses and villagers, gone from Gobber's sight. As soon as he was gone, Gobber turned back to Stoick with an irritated look, while the chief was still busy reading papers.

"All right, he's gone. You can turn yer ears on again." He deadpanned. Stoick finally looked up from the paper with a surprised expression, but quickly turned into one of confusion. Apparently, the whole 'shouting at Hiccup' thing completely passed over his head. Still, Gobber continued to give him an unimpressed look.

"What!?" Stoick asked finally.

"Oh, nuttin." Gobber replied nonchalantly folding his arms. "I'm jest wondering if yuv already got a shelf picked out for the boy, or maybe a cage. Cages are the in-season thing right now, ya know."

"What are you talking about?" Stoick tiredly asked.

"I'm talking about how you're apparently planning on making Hiccup a prisoner in his own house. At this point, all ya need to do is dip him in molten steel and make an ornament outta 'im." Gobber said.

"Don't give me tha' attitude. You saw what that infernal contraption of his did, we're lucky we managed to even hold on to one winter's worth of food!" Stoick growled getting up. "And gods know what else he might have ruined if I didn't smash that thing to pieces." Stoick still remembered the end of it clearly, how he had to repeatedly crush the thing with his hammer until barely anything was left. Hiccup, too young and inexperienced to thoroughly plan out every part of the invention, overlooked a calibration issue with the lever that controlled the firing rate when he had gotten to actually constructing it. This caused the machine to launch arrows without any kind of control. Stoick was able to destroy it, but in the process he and the rest of the village had completely ignored the still-raiding dragons. Hiccup's antics had allowed them to get away with their food and a number of their sheep, yaks, and chickens; some actually thought he had deliberately done their long-time enemies a favor.

"Right, well, it's smashed." Gobber said with a huff from his large nostrils. His eyes looked slightly saddened at the moment, remembering Hiccup's face when his machine met the heavy end of Stoick's hammer. He had been so disappointed to see his hard work destroyed in an instant, especially when he was counting on it so much, and even despite all the problems it caused. "Now how long 'till you and every other whiny baby around here sucks it up and lets it go?"

"It was an act of reckless abandon, complete disregard for his people and utter lunacy in general!" Stoick growled again. "Someone could have gotten hurt or killed!"

Gobber just gave a dull look while his limbs hung to the side. His words summed up his expression perfectly. "Really? We fight dragons for a livin', and now you're worried about somethin' like that? What happened to 'we're Vikings, it's an occupational hazard?'" He gave his best impression of Stoick at that quote. It seemed to be Stoick's go-to phrase whenever he took the men to go on their rather periodic hunts for the dragons' nest, the home of the dragons. Really, he used it for any dangerous activity the Vikings did in general.

"I'll have you know that counts as insulting yur chief, I can have you thrown in a dungeon for that." Stoick said unimpressed with his arms crossed.

"Oh, well, wouldn't want that." Gobber said in a false-worried tone, holding up his hand and hammer in mock fear and rolling his eyes as high up to the ceiling as they could go. "Plenty of winters since those rat holes got a good scrubbin'…"

"Will you just get to the point!?" Stoick asked exasperated. "I've got more important matters ta deal with then my son's little… 'hiccups!'" The word just came to him to describe the matter, and yet that one word summed it up perfectly in his mind. Such an act was something that Hiccup and only Hiccup, with his crazy ideas and overall difference, could have ever conceived.

"That right there, tha's ma point." Gobber said pointing at Stoick with his hammer hand. "It was months ago! The fishing crews have already gotten the stores fill'd up again and the cycle o' life continues over a' the pens. Exac'ly how long are yu gonna keep him here, undar lock and key?" Gobber asked.

"Till he starts acting like a real Viking!" Stoick shouted, slamming his fist on the table for emphasis.

"An' how is he sapposed ta do tha if you don' let him make mistakes and learn from them?" Gobber pointed out.

"Because when that boy makes mistakes, EVERYONE suffers for it!" Stoick said, pacing around the table and past the fireplace alight with warm bright flames until he was directly in front of Gobber. The light behind him only reaching his large backside left his face covered in shadow, giving the man an impossibly more intimidating look. "I give him room to do so, and he'll end up burning this village to the ground long before the devils get the chance! You think I haven't seen that little room of his in the back of the forge? I'm perfectly aware this is only the beginning!"

"Now, hold on-"

"No, Gobber. I put him in that forge so he could bulk up and get past this… awkward stage of his. I'm countin' on you," he jabbed his finger straight into Gobber's chest, the smith barely moving an inch despite his strength, "to make sure of it. I mean it. No. More. Mistakes." Stoick said, pushing and jabbing his finger with every last word while he fixed his glare on Gobber with all the intensity of a harsh blizzard's cold.

The room was silent for a moment, save for the crackling of the fire and the wind blowing through the thick pine trees of the forest outside. The two Vikings just kept their gazes upon each other with eyes narrowed and tempers at the very least flared. The two had always had a bumpy road in terms of their friendship, and like any Vikings they resolved them with everything from verbal arguments to brutal spars in the Kill Ring. It had always been in good nature though, and the two always found peace in the end, either coming to a mutual understanding or just dropping the subject altogether.

In the years following Stoick's ascension to chief, they had gotten much better at avoiding arguments altogether, thanks to his improved skills in diplomacy and tact. Hiccup, though, was a constantly ongoing issue that the two men could find little common ground on, were always at odds on. They both wanted what was best for the boy; at least that was what it seemed on the surface.

But sometimes Gobber had to wonder if Stoick was just trying to find ways to avoid the boy. It certainly didn't help that he was born the runt of the litter and was given the traditionally appropriate name for it. Perhaps Stoick, who once envisioned his child at the time of his birth growing up to be the greatest of all Vikings, was just trying to escape his shattered hopes and dreams for the future.

"No more mistakes…" Gobber echoed backing off from Stoick. "You don't think tha's a little much to ask of a seven year old boy?"

"You're saying as a chief I judge him too harshly?" Stoick asked with a slightly cocked eyebrow. Gobber could see the veins running on his forehead, throbbing with each second. Apparently he was getting a little tired of his roundabout play. Good, Gobber was tired of playing this game just biding his time for Stoick to catch on to the rules.

"As a chief, maybe not. As a _father_..." Gobber emphasized the word with as much volume as he could, afterwards only giving a simple shrug. Gobber could swear nine out of ten times in the day, Stoick flat out forgot he was Hiccup's father and Hiccup was his son. The fatherly side of Stoick barely even saw the light of day, he figured. "But fine, I'll see wha I can do." With that, he turned away from Stoick and hobbled over slowly to the door, his peg leg leaving him with his usual limp. Just before he made it out, his good hand held onto the doorway and he turned back slightly to look at Stoick.

"Jest a bit o' advice, old friend." Gobber began, catching Stoick's attention just as he was about to return to his seat. "Expect perfection, and there's little doubt you'll end up disappointed." And he left, shutting the door behind him, leaving Stoick alone in the house with only his thoughts and Gobber's words.

Stoick just growled angrily again and shut the window before returning to his seat, setting the ice block that had already melted down to two thirds of its original size back upon his head. He grabbed the papers in his hand once again and continued to read. "Expect perfection… what I expect is a worthwhile son." He muttered.

He never would have guessed that the son in question was just underneath the now closed window, having heard him word for word.

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><p>Hiccup jogged through the village making his way to the forge at an even pace, just trying to take in every part of the outdoors that he had missed as much as possible. The warm sunlight as it seemed through the heavy clouds surrounding the island, the sound of birds chirping and the ocean waves crashing against the rocky shores. The smells of forest pine, freshly cut fruit, and smoked salmon and Icelandic cod that mixed together in a strangely pleasing aroma. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had experienced any of these things. To the impatient child it seemed as if it had been an eternity since he had set foot on both the soft grass and the rough dirt of the outside world.<p>

Focusing back into reality, he had caught wind of all the villagers whose eyes were fixed solely on him, from the moment he came into view to the moment he passed them by. Each and every one, man and woman, young and old, had their eyes set in a harsh and furious glare that followed him every step of the way.

Hiccup cringed with each new glare he caught, turning his head left and right to see someone new silently staring daggers at him, each new one causing him to shrink down even more. He barely even registered how his walking had started to slow to the point where he was just sluggishly walking, each step only propelling him an inch or two forward.

He had just made it to the forge, arms huddled around himself in an attempt to make him smaller than he already was. Deep down, he was really hoping he could just disappear, it was a new and foreign feeling to him at that moment, that feeling of being surrounded by giants while he was as small as a speck of dust. It went against everything his father had told him when he was younger, to hold his head up high and be proud in the face of anything. He didn't feel brave or proud then, just the opposite really – he felt like… he didn't belong.

Just as he made it to the forge, he felt something hard hit him against his head, small but hard. Turning around while rubbing his head to soothe the sore spot he noticed it was a mid-sized pebble. He lifted his head up to see Snotlout tossing more pebbles in his hand with a smug look on his face. Alongside him were the twins snickering in the background, Fishlegs cowering behind Snotlout, and Astrid looking away with her arms crossed. They were all in their normal attire, just normal, beat-up, adequately sewn brown, gray, and blue tunics for each of them.

Hiccup just looked at them before a few moments before Snotlout instantly threw another rock at him, this one hitting him right in between the eyes. Hiccup yelped in pain and rubbed the sore spot before glaring back at the slightly older boy.

"What was that for?" Hiccup angrily asked.

Snotlout's smirk just grew at that moment until it reached both sides of his face. "Just wanted to get your attention." And he chucked another pebble at him, this one smacking him right in the forehead and leaving a bright red mark. Again, he yelped in pain and looked back again in anger.

"Well, I'm looking right at you, so quit throwing rocks at me!" Hiccup complained.

"'Quit throwing rocks at me!'" The twins both mocked in voices as nasally and infantile as they could possibly make them. Hiccup was as small, as whiny, and as weak as a baby compared to everyone else, even kids younger than him, so no better voice suited him. The twins just cackled and started babbling gibberish in the same voice with just the same disrespectful tone, with the occasional phrase along the lines of "I stubbed my toe, wah, wah," and "somebody change my diaper, I made a oopsie." Whatever disrespectful, childish mock complaint came into their heads came out of their mouths just as quickly. Soon the two were a jumbled mess on the ground, just continuing to cackle, even Snotlout joining in before long.

"You wanna do something about it? Just try, 'Useless!'" Snotlout called out, crossing his arms and standing tall like he was the greatest Viking alive.

Hiccup's look of anger quickly melted into one of confusion at Snotlout's insult. He wasn't too sure, but he really didn't like the sound of it, even backing away a few steps to show such. "U-Useless? What do you mean?"

"Try and pay attention here, runt, it's your new official title!" He explained with cruel excitement. "I mean, it really fits: you weren't born right, you can't lift any weapons, you made a total mess of the village with your doohickey. Really, you can't do anything right!" He just looked at his nails while emptily pointing out the list as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Around Berk, though, it might as well have been.

Every Viking, one they had completed a specific feat of greatness or daring, was awarded with their own title or moniker. This would be the name that warriors from around the world would come to know them as, the name they would go down in history with once their times had come. The title would usually reflect the deed the Viking had done in one way or another.

For example, Hiccup's father, Stoick the Vast, received his name because of his great strength and stature, as well as his influence as chief. Their first researcher in the field of dragons was named Bork the Bold because he had the courage to do what no one else did and approach each and every dragon to study them and record them for future generations to know the most effective way to kill them. As for Gobber, well he was called Gobber the Belch, but no one really knew why; at least, Hiccup didn't, Gobber never really had a problem with burping as far as he knew. Still, Hiccup had imagined his own title to be unique, special, something that commanded respect from others around him, maybe something related to his creativeness.

But Hiccup the 'Useless'? No, absolutely not, Hiccup didn't want to go down in the annals of Viking history with a title like that. He didn't want future generations of Vikings reading about him and laughing as these children were now, mocking him for being incapable or clumsy. He wouldn't be able to even show his face in public with a title like that.

"Aww, is widdle Hiccup gonna cwy?" Snotlout asked looking down to see how openly disturbed Hiccup was at the dawning of his new title. "I get it, you feel totally honored that I came up with it for you. Like I said, it suits you perfectly…" He sneered.

"No, it doesn't!" Hiccup cried out in fury, his eyes slightly red and an embarrassed shade of light crimson on his cheeks. "Take it back! I don't wanna be Hiccup the Useless!"

"Oooh, he looks mad!" Tuffnut called out, his tiny blonde braids bouncing with him as he hopped up and down. "Check it out, he's as red as a Nightmare!"

"Eew, don't say that!" His sister Ruffnut called, pushing Tuffnut to the ground. "That's like an insult to Nightmares, heh-heh!" She didn't get to say much more before Tuffnut tackled her down to the ground and they had gotten into one of their iconic fights.

"Are you really complaining? After I so generously gave you your own title?" Snotlout asked with fake hurt in his voice, holding a hand out to his chest and feigning looking as hurt as possible. Before long his expression changed to one of irritation. "You got some nerve, turning down a gift from your cousin like that…" Hiccup winced at that: in his ongoing torment at Snotlout's hands, he had actually forgotten that they were indeed related. Their fathers were brothers to one another, after all. But by all rights, Snotlout certainly didn't act like family: family doesn't hurt you or tease you, Hiccup knew that much.

Suddenly Snotlout started pounding his fist into his right hand and stalking over to Hiccup, who backed up a few more steps. The look on the older cousin's face showed he was practically in a position to kill. Hiccup's eyes darted around like flies, looking for some possible means of escape, but there was no possible way without running into one of the other kids. Before long, Snotlout had caught him and grabbed him by the collar of his green tunic, lifting him off the ground by a couple of inches.

"You know, honestly, I'm embarrassed to be related to you." Snotlout started. "Berk's a place for _real_ Vikings, strong, tough guys like me; weaklings like you oughta just be tossed into the ocean to be shark bait."

Fishlegs, who had remained quiet the whole time for fear of getting beaten up by the arrogant Snotlout or the psychotic twins, finally perked up. He let out a sharp gasp and held his hands to his mouth, looking on in horror. "Wait, Snotlout, you're not really gonna…"

"Shut up, Fishlegs!" Snotlout cried out, barely even paying attention to Hiccup desperately trying to worm his way out of his grip with all his strength with both his arms wrapped around his hand. To Snotlout he was barely even a threat – the kid couldn't even fight his way out of a wet potato sack. "Of course I'm not gonna, as much as it disappoints me. I just wanna teach this little runt about being grateful." Snotlout flexed his knuckles, ready to deliver a good punch. Hiccup could tell as much by the sound of his knuckles cracking underneath his flabby skin.

At that point, Hiccup, turned to the other child who had remained quiet the whole time, Astrid. The girl who always stood by her side when they were little. The girl who had already shown the proper attitude and the willingness to learn, who said she was going to be the best shield-maiden Berk had ever seen.

The girl in question was just looking at him out of her peripheral vision, looking for all the world uninterested even at the sight of him about to be hurt. For the life of him Hiccup could not understand why she didn't help him immediately. Why wasn't anyone, now that he thought about it? They were out in the open where everyone could see, where an adult could easily stop this before it got too far. But no one did anything, they just went on their daily business just ignoring him; some were looking, but it almost seemed as if they were waiting for him to be hurt. To be taught 'a lesson,' as Snotlout put it.

Hiccup needed someone, anyone to help him, and he figured Astrid was his best bet. They were childhood friends, and if she still respected that, she would step in. "A-Astrid." He whimpered. "Help…"

Snotlout just cackled in arrogance. "Seriously, you need a girl to fight for you!? You can't show some muscle and do it yourself?" He asked then quickly returned to his traditional sneer. "Oh, that's right, you can't. Well then, you better get ready for a hard lesson in manners…"

Hiccup just shut his eyes as tightly as he could while Snotlout braced his fist, waiting for the inevitable blow that would leave him with a black eye or a broken nose. As much as he hated to admit it, Snotlout had a point: unless you had muscles, you couldn't do anything on the island of Berk. Physical strength was a common asset and played such a large role in everyday life, people who didn't have it were practically outsiders in their own tribe. Maybe Snotlout was right when he said that he should be known as Hiccup the Useless, Hiccup thought, as he grit his teeth and steeled himself as much as he could…

…But the punch never came, no force, no pain, no bruise, nothing. Daring to peek open an eye, Hiccup saw that Snotlout's fist had been stopped just centimeters away from his face. Another hand had caught his just in time, and upon opening his eyes further, Hiccup could see his savior in full.

Sometime in between Snotlout's gearing up and the eventual moment of impact, Astrid had run up and caught him. Her hand was wrapped around his wrist and she was glaring at him coldly, which seemed to have an effect on the young bully based on the gleam of fear in his eyes.

Snotlout just stared dumbly at her while trying to get his hand free. "What do you think you're doing?" He asked in an irritated voice.

"Stupid, you wanna get in trouble with the chief?" Astrid replied.

"Pppth!" He spat before laughing again. "Yeah, right; any second now, my uncle's gonna come running down the hill and save his little runt of a son. Get real! He doesn't care about him: I mess with Useless here all the time and he never shows up." He turned back to Hiccup and slammed him against the wall again. "Face it, your dad thinks you're nothing but trouble, a big joke, I could toss you off the cliff like I said and he wouldn't even notice."

Hiccup was completely horrified by that statement, too scared and upset to really distinguish right from wrong at that very moment. Could it be true? Could his father think so lowly of him that he'd just ignore him if his life was in some manner of great peril? No, his father loved him, all parents loved their children. He could be a good Viking and his father could be proud of him, and yet the more he tried to tell himself that, the less he found himself able to believe it.

Suddenly, Snotlout's arm was twisted back into a painful position once Astrid tightened her own grip. The larger boy yelped in pain as his arm was pulled back and he let go of Hiccup, dropping the little boy to the ground. Hiccup only curled up and watched while tears began to prick his cousin's eyes while Astrid dragged him back.

"Runt or not, he's the chief's son; he finds out about this, he won't be happy." Astrid reprimanded. "Besides, you said you wanted to be a good warrior like your father, right? If that's the case, try putting more time into practicing and less into bullying and bragging!" She then tossed him back to his original spot, next to the twins, who were snickering once again about how he had gotten shown up by a girl. Even if it was Astrid.

Snotlout just scowled at her while rubbing his arm to ease the throbbing. "Fine, but this isn't over, Useless!" He threatened before running off, with the twins and Fishlegs hot on his tail. Hiccup just watched them run away in silence, too scared to even breathe or think. Before long he snapped out of his stupor and looked up at Astrid, still there with her back turned to him. Hiccup's mind had allowed a moment of confusion to enter in next to the fear that was still present. Why wasn't she looking at him anymore? She had never acted this way before? What changed?

Still, he felt he had to say something, if only to ease the still-present tension. "U-Um, thanks for-"

But Astrid cut him off with a sharp huff, barely turning around to narrow her eyes at him. "He was right about one thing, I guess. You're nothing but trouble." Hiccup's mouth gaped as he watched her turn back around and jog off into the village.

Hiccup just swallowed the lump in his throat as he picked himself up after spending several minutes just curled up there, in that one spot. He took one look at the village, all the people just continuing to pretend nothing had happened, no bullies had come to push him down and try to make him cry. Because he knew now that they all felt the same way as Snotlout: because he tried to help and failed, people thought of him as a nuisance now. His chest tightened and he froze where he stood, depressed, scared, surrounded by people and yet all alone.

Too saddened to even remember what he had come down to do, Hiccup just decided to head home again. Maybe his father was right, maybe he should just stay in the house for the rest of his life, where he couldn't bother anyone and people wouldn't have to deal with his messes. Maybe forever, but hopefully until things blew over and everyone finally forgot about his mistake.

He slowly walked back the same path through the village, keeping his eyes fixated on the ground, not bothering to make eye contact with anyone else. The last thing he needed was anyone else reminding him of his new 'title.' He had managed to stay out of everyone's way by the time he trudged back up the steps to the front door of his house and reached the front door.

But just as he was about to open it, he heard voices from the inside, rough voices like boots crunching on gravel with thick accents. He realized that Gobber must still be in the house and was currently talking with his father. Hearing nothing but muffled snippets of the conversation, Hiccup quickly ran to the side of the house and ducked under the window, keeping his ears sharp.

"I put him in that forge so he could bulk up and get past this… awkward stage of his. I'm countin' on _you_ to make sure of it. I mean it. No. More. Mistakes." That sounded like his father, just as angry and intimidating as when Hiccup left.

"No more mistakes… You don't think tha's a little much to ask of a seven year old boy?" This time, it was Gobber.

"You're saying as a chief I judge him too harshly?"

"As a chief, maybe not. As a _father_... But fine, I'll see wha I can do." Hiccup could hear Gobber's peg leg tap against the wooden boards on the floor and the door open, signaling he was just about ready to leave. Then, without warning, the tapping stopped. "Jest a bit o' advice, old friend. Expect perfection, and there's little doubt you'll end up disappointed." Hiccup was startled more by Gobber's words than the door quickly slamming shut at that moment. Was that what his father wanted from him, perfection, no mistakes, to be completely flawless? Hiccup wasn't sure if he could be that.

He heard softer footsteps then, what he guessed was his father returning to his seat. "Expect perfection… what I expect is a worthwhile son."

That was it then. The villagers, the kids, even his father – they all hated him. To his own father, Hiccup wasn't just someone who made mistakes, he was a mistake. He was no Viking, he didn't belong here at all with true warriors; he was an outcast, a freak, a nothing. He suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe at all, his heart just been shattered into a thousand pieces, he didn't know what to think or believe. All he really knew was that he had to get away. He couldn't stay in the village, not when people despised him so, just because of one mishap. Or who really knew? Maybe they had always hated him and it just took that one night filled with destruction and mishaps to give them a proper excuse for it.

Hiccup just shut his eyes to block the tears and chose a random direction to run off in. He didn't realize that he was indeed heading far outside of the village, into the woods beyond.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, I just cannot believe this. 31 followers to this story already? I cannot believe how quickly this has caught fire after only one chapter; I can only imagine how this is gonna turn out once we get to the good stuff.**

**Sorry if it seems this doesn't update as fast as the rewrite I'm working on. The truth is, I already have a bunch of those chapters all ready to go and upload, which is why I post them so fast. This story is pretty much my first Httyd fanfic that I'm doing on my own, and I'm taking my time working on an overall plotline while at the same time writing these individual chapters as I go along. I try to cap them off at about 5000 words per chapter, so as not to overwhelm readers with so much. Again, my first fanfic, so try and cut me a bit of slack.**

**I hope you guys enjoy this one, because I'm not sure how I feel about it. It was a real head-scratcher trying to work out these conversations.**

**All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.**

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><p>Hiccup continued to jog forward into the dense forest ahead him, passing through the scores of pine trees that from his perspective seem to touch the sky. In every direction the trees spread out, every possible turn led through more and more of them. Though upset, he still managed to navigate the path through, passing shrubs, hopping off the tops of rocks jutting from the ground and small crevices where smaller animals hid. The forest grew deeper and deeper as he went on, until the sky could barely even be seen past the needles on each of the individual trees' highest branches.<p>

Hiccup had been warned many times not to go into the forest unless he had an adult with him, as all the children were. He was just warned multiple times due to his short attention span, even though this was technically his first time going in so deeply. The woods were supposed to be home to several kinds of dangerous animals, such as wild boars or wolves. Some Vikings even said that they had spotted a dragon or two roaming around probably hunting for food; those dragons were always promptly killed though before they could go any further. Still, Hiccup couldn't help but be wary and wonder how many more were inside.

Now, though, he didn't really care about any potential dangers or anything of the like. He just wanted to be by himself, away from everybody else, who suddenly hated him after one mistake.

Hiccup kept his eyes forward, locked on the path ahead of him, and failed to notice the large rock sticking out of the ground. His foot caught on it and he tripped down with a hard slam to the ground. His green tunic was covered in dirt stains and he could feel a slight sprain in his ankle. He even felt a small stink coming from somewhere around his knee, he had guessed that it had been skinned in the fall somehow. He picked himself up and just sat there in silence for a few moments, looking down at his small lap.

Everything Snotlout said about being useless and a liability just kept spiraling in his mind in a whirlpool of derogatory thoughts. The insults just replayed themselves over and over again, making both his head and his heart hurt along with the rest of his body. Such insults only drove home the fact that he was the polar opposite of his father it seemed, someone who commanded respect and admiration from all around him with words alone. A man who was nearly as tall as a mountain and more ferocious than any storm that hit the island of Berk, who could stare into the eyes of devils with nary a flinch and fight until his last breath. He wanted to be someone like that, he wanted to be the perfect Viking that his father wanted more than anything else in the world.

Now that he thought about it, he was born at the same time the other kids were, so he should have grown up like them. They were all around the same age, even if he was a few weeks behind Snotlout or the twins. Surely he should have, at that point, been just as healthy as them.

Yet here he was, with arms as limp as weeds and a chest so small he could easily pass for a stick. It was the way he was born, and it was something that neither he, nor anyone else could change. He had tried to bulk up in the past, stuffing himself with food until he was ready to burst and he puked into the wee hours in the outhouse by their home. But for all his efforts, his miniscule frame remained unchanged and he was just barely able to lift the weapons lying on the forge floor off the ground.

Hiccup huddled up to himself, hugging his knees and scrunching up his back, letting himself ignore the reality of his situation and ponder as if it was possible_. If I was strong, will daddy and everyone else be happy? If I was the same as them, will they like me?'_

He suddenly heard a rustling sound coming from somewhere nearby, and he picked his head up to look. There was nothing in front of him, at first glance it seemed he was still by himself in the woods. He heard the sound again, and he pinpointed it to a nearby bush that was shaking somewhat.

Perhaps it was a small animal, like a squirrel or a rabbit, Hiccup guessed, but the rustling seemed to be too loud and too frequent for either of them. It was most likely a baby boar or wolf cub, and just that thought made Hiccup tremble like a leaf. Even young predatory animals were dangerous, they could bite his hand or give him a nasty scratch with their claws. Hiccup certainly didn't want to suffer injury on top of insult today, so he quickly picked himself off the ground.

He took a few cautious steps back not to startle whatever was hiding there and convince it into pouncing on him. When he was sure he was a safe distance away, he turned and bolted back towards the village. He may not be happy there, but he would be safe.

Whatever that thing was, he didn't want it anywhere near him.

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><p>Hiccup had just made it to the edge of the forest and saw the entirety of the village come into view. He looked down to see all the people having gotten through most of their chores and were sitting on the porches on their houses, talking with each other while drinking their mugs of beer and snacking on chicken and yak legs. Things had gotten along just fine without him, in fact people looked really happy. Did that start once he left, he wondered? Were people happy because he was gone? He tried to put it out of his head – he'd been thinking enough depressing thoughts for one day, probably enough for a whole week.<p>

He just looked out to the houses of the other kids, the square where the stone circle was and most Vikings gathered, and the forge just past it. Wait…

Hiccup shrieked and grabbed his auburn streaks in distress. "The forge! I totally forgot! Oh, Gobber's gonna be so mad at me!" He remembered just at that moment that Gobber had wanted him to clean up before he got back. He rushed over to the forge as quick as his little legs could carry him.

He ducked and swerved past the Vikings that were still doing their jobs, carrying large logs of wood for their houses, some having three or four logs under the crook of a single arm. This time, people seemed so happy or busy that they completely ignored him as he went by. Good, Hiccup thought to himself, the last thing he needed was anybody being angry at him.

He made it to the forge in perhaps record time, and stopped just before the door on the side, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. With bated breath, he grabbed the handle on the door and pushed slowly, trying to be as sneaky as possible. The door creaked open slightly, and he wormed through to enter the forge.

The forge was a simple place, it had all the necessities a blacksmith needed, nothing too fancy or over the top. In the back of the room there was a large fireplace built from what was little more than a column of stone with a hole near the bottom surrounded by a small hearth of stone bricks, the inside currently put out and pitch black from all the soot and the many hours the flame would normally be lit. Next to the fireplace was a large stone wheel fixed into a wooden sawhorse with a foot pedal connected to it, a grinding wheel used to sharpen the blades of swords or axes that might have become dull from repeated use. Also close by was a cube formed from the same hastily crafted stone bricks with a bellow pump nearby and coals placed inside, with tongs on top; along with the fireplace this could be used for reheating and reshaping metal.

A barrel filled with water was on the other side of the fireplace for cooling down the metal once it had been shaped; the clouds of steam that always rose up in large amounts always made Hiccup sweat, and he always remembered how the barrels needed to be constantly refilled. Scores of weapons, swords, lances, shields, axes, crossbows, spears, and spiked hammers were placed on shelves or stored in wooden barrels on the back wall, some broken in some way and needing repair while others were on reserve to be used as quick replacements for Vikings needing a quick change out in the field. The benches were littered with tongs, forge hammers, plenty of nuts and bolts and wooden handles and spare wood planks, scraps of metal and leather, with even more of the same wrapped up in nets hanging from the wooden beams that held up the ceiling. The shutters of the front window at the front near the open main entrance were closed off, indicating that the forge was currently closed at this time.

Hiccup breathed a sigh of relief at that. If the forge was closed right now, then that meant Gobber was not yet here and wouldn't catch him late. He hastily grabbed his apron from the side of the house and tied the straps around his back. He then grabbed a broom nearby and started sweeping the thick layer of dust that had gathered on the floor, turning his back to the main workspace of the forge.

"Well, good ta see you could take time ou' of yur busy schedule ta do yur job." A dry voice sounded from behind him.

Hiccup flinched heavily to see that Gobber was standing behind him, arms crossed, jaw fixed, eyebrow cocked and looking not really all that angry, but none too amused, either. He grasped the broom with both hands and tried his best to look anywhere but at his irritated mentor.

"Um-uh… w-well… I was just, um, I-I was-"Hiccup stuttered.

Gobber raised up his prosthetic hook that he had replaced his hammer from earlier with. "Ah, forget it. Ya got time ta yap, ya got time ta clean, so get to it." He shooed him off while he started up the bellows to heat up the coals. He grabbed a spare sword from the shelf that had been bent completely out of shape and started to heat the metal. He began whistling a cheerful tune once the coals started to heat up to pass the time until the sword would be hard enough.

Hiccup just watched nervously for a moment, just feeling the stifling heat emanating from the heated rocks, the air growing intense and hot around him, watching the small particles of ignited coal dust flat through the air, but eventually returned to his sweeping.

After a while, Gobber had taken the sword over the bench, sweeping off most of its contents and placing the sword on a metal anvil near the edge. Once again, he replaced his prosthetic, switching it back to the hammer, and began pounding the soft misshapen metal. Hiccup had by now cleaned most of the floor and turned back to Gobber, just watching him carefully. Gobber had managed to pick up on Hiccup staring at him and grinned, if only slightly.

"I take it somethin's on yur mind?" Gobber asked wryly. "Well, might as well spit it out. I think we've all learned by now how dangerous you thinkin' can be."

Hiccup frowned and turned away after having finally caught himself staring. "Can we please not talk about it? I just wanna forget it ever happened…"

"Oh, you an' me both," Gobber said passively. "But if there's one thing Vikings know how ta do, besides fightin', drinkin', and sailin', not ta mention avoid bathin'," he added once he gave his armpits a good whiff, "it's hold a grudge."

"Well, it's not like I planned for all that stuff to happen!" Hiccup cried out suddenly. "How was I supposed to know that dumb piece of junk would make such a mess? I try to do something good and all I get is everybody super mad at me!"

"Ah, true, you're not exactly everybody's favorite runt right now." Gobber added while he just continued to pound.

"I know, Snotlout made that pretty obvious." Hiccup said.

Gobber quickly stopped his hammering and looked at Hiccup, the boy just sweeping more and more on one spot of floor absentmindedly. He would never admit it, but he was petty worried about his young apprentice. He had figured from the very beginning that Snotlout would grow up to be nothing but a bad egg, already showing too much ego for someone his age. And now that he thought about it, Hiccup did look a bit frazzled. Obviously his cousin had said something that really got to him, and the boy in typical stubborn Viking fashion, was trying hard to conceal it.

The smith let out a heavy sigh and placed his good hand to his hip, turning to face Hiccup fully. "All right, what'd the little muttonhead do?"

"I said I don't wanna talk about it." Hiccup replied back.

"Ah, you didn't wan' ta talk about yur litt'l disaster on wheels, I'm talkin' about Snotlout. Come on, out with it, wha' happened?" Gobber asked. Again, Hiccup just stayed silent while sweeping the same spot more and more.

Gobber sighed and shook his head; obviously this was going to require a bit harder of a gentle nudge. "Ya know, yur more like yer father than anyone around cares ta think. He was never the type to talk about his problems either, always just went wit' the quick solution an' smashed some defenseless tree. Did it work? Neeegh, who could say?" He shrugged. "A thousan' broken stumps later an' that mug 'a his is still scowlin'." Hiccup, again, continued to sweep that spot under his feet. Gobber couldn't help but notice the resemblance to how Stoick would only grunt when he stopped by the house mere moments ago. Like he said, those two were more alike than anyone thought.

"All right, enough wit' tha sweepin! Anymore an' I'll be able ta see ma reflection in the floor!" He shouted after a few more moments as he picked Hiccup off the floor by his collar, dangling him in the air.

Hiccup thrashed and grunted in frustration, swinging his arms around and threatening to whack Gobber with the broom that was still in his hand. "Let me go, put me down!" He yelled.

"Not until I get some answers. That smug little troll said somethin' ta tick you off an' I wanna know what!" Gobber said.

"It's none of your business!" Hiccup cried.

"Oh, it isn't, is it? Whether either of us likes it er not, you're ma apprentice Hiccup, an' that means ah need you ta keep this place runnin' smoothly and help folks when they need it!" Gobber reasoned. "The same way your father expects you to when you take his place as chief, but none o tha's gonna happen unless you learn ta solve yur own problems first! Now are you gonna get this thing off yur chest already, or am I gonna have ta dangle ya from the roof?"

At the mention of his father, Hiccup had gone completely silent, hanging limply from Gobber's hand and letting his grip on the broom slip and causing it to drop to the floor. With the way everyone was so angry at him, he'd let it slip from his mind completely that he was going to succeed his father and become the next chief of Berk, governing over each and every one of them. Like Gobber said, people would be coming to him with their individual problems seeking his guidance; come times of war and in ongoing battles with the dragons, they would look to him for leadership.

But his mistake from months ago had been causing him to question everything he had once believed. He had to wonder if people were now questioning it just as he was now whether he'd be a good chief. He didn't even want to be chief at all, but always figured he'd just be mindlessly groomed into the position without any say whatsoever. He imagined that by the time he came of age, as reluctant as he would be, he'd still know all the intricacies of being a proper chief and produce satisfactory results – nothing big, just enough to keep Berk from crumbling into the ocean. His father could at least be proud of him for that.

Hiccup looked solemn, squinting his eyes in clear distress, pausing just a moment more before finally giving Gobber an answer. "He… he called me… 'Useless.'"

Gobber's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What now?"

"Hiccup the Useless. He said it was my new title, 'cause I can't do anything right." Hiccup said not bothering to look Gobber in the eye. Just saying the title was enough to bring shame.

Both master and apprentice were silent, letting the nickname sink in, the name that would label the young boy for years to come. "Huh…" Gobber said after a long pause. "Not what I woulda come up with."

This earned him a worried glance from the boy still dangling in his grip. "Really, what would you have called me?"

"Ah, I'm thinkin' like…" Gobber cursed himself for his lack of creativity; he was never very good when it came to names. "Eh, how bout… Hiccup the 'Useful?'"

Hiccup just pouted back with his curious expression returned to a look of sadness. "That's not much better."

"Fine then," Gobber exasperatedly shot back. "Settle for 'Hiccup the Whiny'."

"Gobber!"

"Better yet, let's go with 'Hiccup the Worrywart,'" said Gobber with a crooked smile on his face, the stone tooth in his exaggerated lower jaw sticking out among the rest of his misshapen teeth. "'Cause you're worryin' too much over what other folk think a you. If yu wanna think yur Hiccup the Useless, then far be it from me ta naysay. Ah'll be more than happy ta engrave et on yur first sword." He pointed his hammer straight into Hiccup's little chest, causing him to topple over. "But I'd say a gewd righ' hook is in order for the nimrod tha tells ya that's wha' yu should be. If you gotta listen ta anyone else, start wit' the people that mattar."

Hiccup shifted his moods again, returning once more to confusion as he stared up at Gobber. "The people that matter?" He asked in confusion.

"Like friends for starters." Gobber pointed out.

Hiccup frowned at that. He was supposed to trust friends to tell him what he was and wasn't, what he could and couldn't do? The last 'friend' he trusted to do that told him straight to his face that he was 'nothing but trouble.' Astrid had never been so cold to him before – they always used to laugh and have fun together, helping Astrid's mother with baking, doing chores around the house and pretending to be dragon slayers. And come to think of it, Fishlegs was once a friend of his too, always hanging out with him reading books and enjoying a snack in the great hall. Then one day he up and left Hiccup to go and hang out with Snotlout and the twins, even though it hardly looked like he was enjoying their company. All his so called friends had up and left him, so who was he supposed to trust now? Why did everything have to change, and how _did_ it change so quickly?

Gobber noticed Hiccup's frown and just turned back to the bench to start hammering on the now-cooled blade. "All right, off with ya."

"Huh?" Hiccup looked back up to the smith and asked.

"Yu heard me, yur done for the day. I don' need a gloomy gus like you around. Just head on home." Gobber said without even looking, just sticking the sword back in the freshly pumped coals to reheat it.

Hiccup just sat there for a moment lost before standing up slowly. "Okay," was all he said as he untied his apron and hung it back up by the small nail on the wall where it had been when he first came in. He gave himself a good dusting once more to shake off any residual dust and snuck past the door again. "See ya, I guess." The last thing he said before closing the door.

"Be here all the earlier the next day!" He heard Gobber call while he went back up the hill to his house.

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><p>Hiccup had headed over to the small ledge that overlooked the village plaza, not that far a distance from the forge where he just was. Of course, nothing was really that far when one lives in a tight knit village such as this. He could see Gobber still working heartily at the anvil, pounding what looked to be a block for a brand new hammer. Other Vikings were already lined up ready to get their weapons repaired just in time for the next dragon raid, whenever it would be. The Vikings of Berk had long since learned to sleep with their weapons under their pillow and ready to fight at a moment's notice, and yet they could hardly do so with weapons that had more cracks in them than the stones in the circle placed dead center in the open area. Hiccup dangled his feet from the ledge, kicking them back and forth and feeling the small tufts of grass he seated upon shift beneath him and itch his bottom.<p>

Hiccup just kept thinking about what Gobber had said and trying to find even one person among the throngs of warriors who could fit the description of 'friend.' A friend was… well, it was hard for him to put into words, it was just one of those little things that one takes for granted. A child was no different, being so capable of making a friend after just a short exchange of a few words. A friend, as Hiccup or any other child would understand it, was someone who makes you happy, and no one here could fit that mold well enough. Their coldness bent them out of shape, deforming and twisting them into near strangers, them, the people that Hiccup had and would spend his whole life knowing.

He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder suddenly, like someone had punched him, and turned around to see Astrid. Hiccup pouted slightly, inwardly chastising himself for not being able to guess that very instant. Astrid had always been a violent child; punching people was her form of greeting them. She had picked up on the Viking way well, which probably explained why he wasn't all that happy to see her.

"Hey," she said simply.

"Hey," he mumbled back.

Astrid took that as her cue to sit down beside him and so she did, placing herself mere inches away from him. Subconsciously, he scooted over, furthering the distance between them, not feeling all that comfortable with her right now. Apprehensive as he was, the two just sat there in silence, only increasing the awkward feeling shared between them to a level so great it was practically visible in front of them.

Quickly growing frustrated and impatient, Astrid decided to make the first move. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" She blurted out.

Hiccup turned to look at her. "Huh?"

She huffed. "For saying what I said back there. I didn't mean it."

Hiccup's raised eyebrows at that moment sunk down, morphing his gaze into a light glare. "Then why _did_ you say it?"

"I don't know, alright? It's just that my mama and papa have been saying that I shouldn't be hanging out with you anymore." She said. Hiccup's glare turned more intense. Was she really going to use her parents as an excuse to get out of this? The Astrid he knew never used excuses for anything, certainly not for insulting someone she had known and played with since birth.

"Why would your mom and dad tell you something like that?" Hiccup asked, suspicion edging his voice like a razor. Astrid said nothing. "Is it because of what I did?"

"Something like that." She muttered.

"Well, Gobber says that everyone should just forget about it." Hiccup retorted turning his gaze back to the square. "Sure, I messed up big time, and I get it. Nobody has to be mean about it."

The little girl's gaze softened as she looked at her longtime companion, pity etched in her eyes like the runes in the wood and stone that comprised their homes. She personally wasn't very comfortable on the matter, but she could understand the logic in her parents' decision and the insight towards the bigger picture. Their order to her to distance herself from him was made for her benefit, but she figured Hiccup at least deserved an explanation.

"It's not like anybody tries to be mean-"She tried to reason.

"Could've fooled me," Hiccup shot back. His father wouldn't be happy, he could already guess, to learn that he was beginning to pick up Gobber's sarcastic tone.

Astrid let loose a sigh. "You know how I always said I wanna be a shield-maiden?"

Hiccup looked back to her and nodded – it had indeed been a dream of hers to become a warrior and fight on the front lines alongside her father and the others. Most women in the tribe took up household roles like cooking in the Great Hall, even if they barely had the talent for it, or watching over the household. His own mother, who had died when he was born, had settled for the latter alongside helping out at the healers' huts to tend to warriors who had been critically wounded in battle.

But Astrid knew from the very beginning that all she wanted to do with her life was grab an axe and chop off dragon wings and limbs. Hiccup, despite his abhorrence for violence of any kind, could only admire her for knowing so soon what her dream was.

"Well, my papa says it's time I started taking that seriously and start training. And I have to make sure to get rid of any…" she tried her best to be gentle with the next word. "Distractions."

"Distractions?" Hiccup asked, not sure what the word meant.

"You," she said simply. "You're small and clumsy and not much of a fighter. My mama says that people are saying stuff about you and it's not good."

"What kinda stuff?" Hiccup asked in worry. "You mean like the stuff Snotlout was saying before?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Hiccup heard his heart thumping in his chest, slamming against his tiny cage in danger of bursting right out. His hands began to tremble and his lips quivered, letting loose the one question that he dreaded asking from the moment it popped into his mind in the woods. "So people really don't like me… because I'm small and weak?"

Astrid's silence only confirmed it, revealed what was beneath the surface of abnormal irritation for an invention gone wrong and what needed to be done. It was strange, really; for finding out the disturbing truth about how a bully's words were seen as common knowledge to everyone around him, it didn't hurt as bad as he thought it would. But that was probably because of everything else happening in that one day that had been culminating up for months, hitting him faster than one of Snotlout's pebbles to the head, leaving him completely numb. The only way to turn it all around was to do the impossible and make a mini-Stoick out of him, and the more Hiccup thought about it happening, changing everything he was to make other people happy, the more he didn't like it.

He gritted his teeth and scowled. "I don't get it. People hate me because I'm small, and you say they don't wanna be mean? That doesn't make any sense!"

"Well, I guess not, but-"

"It's dumb and weird and crazy, but-but everyone's thinking it! Even you!" He stood up quick and pointed at Astrid. "You won't admit it, but you don't like me either; that's why you didn't do anything when Snotlout was picking on me!"

"No, that's not-".

"I thought you were my friend, Astrid, I thought we were always gonna have each other's' backs! But I guess I was wrong – I don't have any friends!" With that Hiccup stormed off away from Astrid who turned to look after him, standing up and following for only a few short paces.

"Wait!" Astrid cried out. "Where are you going?"

"What do you care? Just leave me alone!" Hiccup called out.

"But you're heading for the woods! Your dad says we're not allowed to go in there alone!" She warned, her voice getting louder as he got farther. In truth Hiccup didn't even notice he was once again heading into the forest. But once again, his distressed state blurred out his surrounding environment in his eyes and mind. He just continued marching forward, regardless of whatever consequences he might face once his dad found out.

Anger started to well up in Astrid, released in the form of red-tinted cheeks and clenched fists. She was tired of being put through this guilt-trip that Hiccup was putting down on her, and she admitted that yes, she did at least start to see him as the others did. Guilt and remorse were feelings only belonging to the weak, children were taught, and she was by no means weak. She was a Hofferson, and her clan always faced forward with fierce dignity, regardless of whatever challenge was presented to them. She raised both her arms to her mouth and screamed as loud as she could.

"YOU KNOW WHAT, I TAKE IT BACK! YOU REALLY ARE NOTHING BUT TROUBLE!"

But Hiccup didn't hear her, that or he didn't care. He just marched forward into the trees until he was out of sight.

He went deeper and deeper into the woods until he found a large rock covered in fuzzy moss to sit on surrounded by a group of smaller rocks surrounded by some of the larger, more closely bunched together trees in the forest and sat there, just letting steam out. He crossed his arms and set his face in a scowl that no cheery tune, no funny joke, and no delicious bowl of jam or honey that he loved so when his father brought them could fix.

Just like before, he heard a rustling sound coming from a bush nearby. It was the same level of noise, which gave hints that it was the same type of creature from before. Looking around Hiccup noticed in recollection that he was not that far from the spot where he had tripped and fell before heading back to the village. So perhaps the creature that was rustling inside the bush wasn't just the same kind of creature from before, it was the exact same one.

Again, Hiccup felt fear at what lurked inside the bush, lying in wait to attack and possibly kill him. This time, however, his fear was overpowered by an alarming sense of curiosity. When he thought about it, he was quite curious the last time too, a part of him wanting to go over and just look inside the bush to see what was there. It was quite possible that fear of the unknown was getting the better of him, and it could very well have been just a rabbit or a squirrel like he had first thought. He took a gulp and reminded himself that Vikings were brave and strong, and if he couldn't be a Viking in body, he could at least be one in spirit.

He decided to take the chance and look.

Standing up and sliding off the rock, he dusted his bottom free of residual moss or any dampness from it. He slowly crept towards the bush, taking tiptoe by tiny tiptoe, his steps so gentle they barely made a sound. He reached the bush and reached into the tangle of leaves and branches, parting them away to gain a clearer view, and peered inside.

It was hard to see for a moment, but squinting his eyes he could just make out something amongst the weaving entanglement. Deep inside, he could just make out a pair of wide, acidic green eyes with thin black slits.

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><p><strong>Review, follow, favorite. Next chapter's what you early reviewers have been waiting for!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to everyone who have favorite and followed so far - again, I cannot believed how quickly this has gained popularity. I only hope the chapters to come are just as to your liking, this story is gonna be pretty intense. **

**Rumbling Night Cutter: I am not deliberately trying to flame Astrid or anyone in this story. Sure, I said I didn't like her, but that's not to say I outright hate her. Honestly, there are many traits in her that I admire. I guess I'm just being a bit bitter towards what happened in the first movie when Hiccup got good in dragon training and less then exemplary traits showed. I do think her character improved greatly when she found out about Toothless and by the time of Httyd2, so let's just say now I'm a bit lukewarm to her character. Believe me, there are plenty below her on my favorites list.**

**six samurai of dragon order: Who can say just yet whether or not he will leave? But if I write it so he does, I hope you'll respect my decision. I'm going to stay true to the plotline I have set up for this, so again, I hope its to people's liking.**

**BlackFireFalcon: Glad you like the story so far!**

**And so here's what you've been waiting for - get ready for the fluff! To me no HttyD fanfic is complete without a little HicTooth fluff!**

**All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.**

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><p>Hiccup just peered into the bush with the pair of animalistic eyes watching him just returning his gaze, their stares locked upon one another. He noticed the spectrum of different hues of greens melding together in the sceleras, creating a near luminescence even in the shadows of the leaves. The eyes didn't even move or blink, just focused on him with such an intensity it was almost as if they were looking into Hiccup's very soul.<p>

Hiccup himself could feel that sense of vulnerability greater than anything else, like his heart was stripped bare of everything. It strained his eyelids and forehead, but his eyes could only widen further, and Hiccup visibly forced himself to follow the creature's lead and not blink, for fear of what may happen.

Finally, after a near eternity, the eyes shifted slowly, and a soft black mass came inching out from within the bush. It pressed against his nose ever so slightly, and Hiccup could feel the roughness of what seemed like scales against its tip. He felt a gentle tuft of air upon the bottom of his face, and Hiccup almost choked at the scent of fish and smoke that came into his nostrils. As quickly as it came, the mass – its snout, Hiccup guessed - started to sniff him, inspecting him as it seemed. Hiccup was extremely nervous at that point, and kept himself still without making any sudden movements for fear of the creature lashing out.

Then the creature did something entirely unexpected. Its snout raised up and its mouth opened, and a small, slimy pink mass squirmed out. Its forked tongue brushed up against the tip of Hiccup's nose, giving him a tiny little lick.

Hiccup finally zone in and panic filled him all at once; his pace quickened and he began to hyperventilate. Just as soon as the tongue disappeared back into the mouth, he let loose a terrified scream and scampered away, turning his back and shuffling and clawing against the grass.

The creature screamed too, although to Hiccup it sounded more like a high pitched screech, and vanished from the bush. Hiccup ran towards the nearest tree and hid behind it – the tree's trunk was so thick it hid his entire body from view. His fingers dug into the bark, the rugged wood damaging his nails, while his back remained nailed to the tree. He continued to breathe heavily in fear, his mind clouded with panic over just what manner of creature had apparently tried to taste him.

Finally, after a few moments of collecting himself, he dared to look back and see if it was still there. He heard it screech, as horrible a sound as it was, and saw it vanish, so maybe it ran away. He peeked over the side of the tree to see the distance between his tree and the bush completely empty. It didn't follow him to his relief, but scanning the area he could see something move behind a tree directly across from him next to the bush where he found the creature.

Something that looked to be a head peeked out from the bush. It was as black as night and coated in shiny obsidian scales. The head was long and somewhat flat, with tiny, floppy little ear flaps sticking up in the air at the sides. Green eyes with black slits were on each side of a tiny snout, peering at him with a level of nervousness easily rivaling his own.

Hiccup gasped and pulled his head back behind the tree, barely noticing that the creature did the same.

He peeked out again, only halfway this time, and again the creature followed his actions, only watching with one eye. He pulled back again, and again the creature imitated him.

He decided to be a bit bolder this time and peek out halfway, leaning his body and grabbing the side of the tree with his left hand. Once more the creature mimicked him, holding onto the tree with a black paw with claws that Hiccup figured could tear through him like butter. A long black appendage stuck out from the ground that looked like a tail with two small fins on both sides of the end, wagging back and forth.

Hiccup gathered all the courage he could muster and moved almost entirely from behind the tree, bring his hands close to his chest so as to quickly hold them out should the need to protect himself arise. He still barely had any idea what this thing was or what it was capable of, so it would be best to err on the side of caution.

As expected, the mysterious creature imitated him once more, carefully pacing out into full view and Hiccup could finally see it in totality. Its entire body was as black and scaly as its head and tail, with a long neck that craned out from the rest of its body. It was quadrupedal, walking on four legs, and though they were folded, Hiccup could recognize a pair of big black wings against its body. They looked somewhat like a bat's the way the membrane stretched out against the bones that made up the visible wing joints. The beast shuddered slightly and continued to fix Hiccup with a curious stare, the slits in its eyes rounding out slightly. Eyes locked on the creature, Hiccup could finally recognize it for what it was, and the answer made him break into a cold sweat out of pure terror.

It was a dragon.

Whether out of a strange calmness at the recognition of this discovery or fear so great it seized control of his body, Hiccup stayed there in place. Every voice in his mind screamed at him to run, to escape the forest as quickly as he could and never come back. He had never seen a dragon like this before, and he had no idea just what it was capable of. That just made it all the more dangerous; his father had always told him of what dragons could do, how they could fly through the sky, rend through their houses with their talons and claws as sharp as swords and burn their homes to the ground with destructive blasts of fire. He always remembered how the dragons stole their food and how there would always be less of the sheep and chickens he loved to play with so much because the dragons would always take them away. Sometimes, the dragons would even go so far as to kidnap humans and take them away to eat them. Hiccup shuddered and wondered if this dragon was going to do that to him.

But upon closer inspection, Hiccup wondered how the dragon was going to do that. From the looks of things, this dragon was pretty small, only a bit bigger than a Terrible Terror, the smallest dragon that Vikings knew of: annoying, but still bad. The dragon sat up now with its legs close together, and Hiccup saw it was just taller than him, only by a few inches. He was sure dragons got to be a lot bigger, much bigger than even Vikings, well the full grown ones anyway. If you were a child like Hiccup, you were practically an ant, and yet he doubted his size or age would warrant mercy from an animal as dangerous as this one.

Another flash of epiphany hit him. This dragon probably wasn't all that big because it was young. Quite possibly, this was a _baby_ dragon, or at least some kind of dragon toddler.

The dragon just sat there, wiggling its body in nervousness or anticipation or some form of energy, its eyes slowly dilating into full black orbs. The human standing in front of it had it very curious, ever since it first sniffed him when he had come into the forest earlier. It caught wind of a variety of different scents: the smells of wood and fish and dirt and smoke on him, all blended together like the colors in those beautiful lights in the sky that came out at night sometimes.

It was a strange feeling, something entirely new to the little dragon, and it got it excited, being an adventurer by heart. The other humans seemed really bad, the way they fought and hurt and killed dragons, but this one was different, he could tell now that they stood face to face; he was just like those beautiful lights. His eyes sparkled and his soul gleamed with a rainbow of greens like nature itself, yet in a way that it seemed only they could.

The dragon wasn't sure why, but it liked this little boy, and maybe he would want to play with him. But it was also wary of whether or not he would scream again like he did before and ran away; how silly, the dragon thought, that he would be afraid of a little dragon like him. Still, it seemed this human was easily startled, so the dragon made sure to move slowly. It stopped shaking and ever so carefully, it ducked its head, arched its back up and stepped forward, lifting his paw just barely off the ground and setting it inches ahead.

Hiccup gasped and flinched, trembling uncontrollably. "N-no... Stay away…"

The dragon's ear flaps and its spirits sunk at this; did this mean that the human didn't like it? It only wanted to play with him, but as silly as it seemed, the human was still scared and wanted to keep distance between them. The dragon tried its best to seem as non-menacing as possible, letting out a low coo and purring heavily, whatever it could do to show the human it wasn't a threat.

It seemed to work, because this time it could get a few steps closer, a few tiny steps anyway. But when it tried to take a bigger step, the human gasped again.

"P-p-please." Hiccup begged. "Please d-don't hurt me…"

The dragon backed its paw and head away and huddled itself up in sadness with its tail curled around it, letting out a tiny little whimper at the human's apparent belief it would do him harm. It just wanted to play , but if the human was this scared, maybe it would be best if it left and not upset him anymore. That truly saddened the dragon as it imagined, even as the human shuffled further away, all the ways they could have fun. But it didn't want to give up just yet, something inside the dragon told it that the two of them could be friends, almost like they _needed_ to be, and a dragon trusts its instincts.

"N-nice... nice dragon..." He mumbled. Yes, it was a nice dragon, and it wanted him to see that.

Without warning, the dragon pounced forward with a burst from his hind legs, alarming Hiccup back into the tree trunk. After panting enough to burst his lungs, Hiccup suddenly found a second wind and started screaming and running away. His legs carried him deeper into the forest, with the dragon screeching and flapping in the air right behind him.

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><p>Stoick had long since finished his paperwork at his home and since gone over to the Great Hall for a round of ale with some of his fellow Vikings. He sat at the center of a long table just past the large stone pit where a fire was currently alight to warm the hall from the cold temperatures brought in by the open doors. Light filtered in from the small torches lined along the wall and from the large hole overhead, long boarded shut with erratically placed planks of wood that had since hardened and stale from the elements; a large, haunting golden statue of a dragon with a sword run through its body hung just below. The room was held up by large columns of wood and stone with carved images of Vikings sailing and killing dragons, the foundations of their tradition, and records of their ancestors' greatest achievements. Tables were littered everywhere, all filled with Vikings having their fill of food and drink while talking with their fellow villagers regarding the day's events, to swap stories of their dragon killing exploits, or the ever-amusing prospect of who among them when paired off would win in a fist fight.<p>

The table Stoick was at was no different, each of the Viking roughhousing and yelling at each other just now succumbing to the intoxication their beverages provided. The only one who remained sober aside from him was the gruff looking Viking with heavy stubble and a long-horned Viking helmet sitting by his side. Spitelout, Stoick's brother and second-in-command, Snotlout's father, and practically an adult version of him with ten times the arrogant attitude, was munching down on a chicken wing, tearing the meat right of the bone with his teeth and giving his brother a good talking to.

"I'm tellin' ya, Stoick, something is just not righ' wit' tha boy o yurs." Spitelout said waving his leg in the face of the Berkian chief. "You've seen it, haven't ya? That invention o' his has got the whole island spooked."

"Tell me about it." Stoick said with a hand to his head and taking another sip from his wooden mug. "I'm still handing out apologies for it."

"And you know this is only the beginnin'. 'Sonly a mattar o' time before he pulls somethin' like this again. The villagers are keepin' on their toes for the day it does."

Stoick let loose a heavy sigh, the alcohol on his breath highly pungent. Gobber had told him in the days before that horrible night how excited Hiccup was whenever he went into his little space in the back of the forge to do something or other. That twinkle of excitement was just as present the moment brought that contraption out into the open and let it loose. Even if this first attempt ended in failure, Hiccup would most certainly try and build another new machine, one Stoick could already assume to be just as dysfunctional. Once that boy got an idea in his head there was no stopping him; sadly that seemed to be one of the very few things he inherited from him. It frustrated Stoick to no end that the classic and reliable Viking tenacity born in all their children would be applied to something so utterly foolhardy. He moved his large hand to his face and let it slide down in mortification.

Spitelout looked around, darting his head left and right before leaning in and covering his mouth right beside Stoick's ear. "Look, I'v been talkin' this over with the Thorstons and the Ingermans," Spitelout added, hoping the added comments of the twins' and Fishlegs parents would be able to sway the chief. In a show of behavior rather uncharacteristic for Viking, he tried to be as delicate with the matter as possible. "And we're of the opinion that perhaps becomin' chieftain of Berk may be a little much to hope for fur a boy o' his… limited capabilities…"

Stoick cocked an eyebrow and looked at his brother, swearing this was headed into familiar territory. "Go on…" he said.

"The whole village has been talking about it, actually, for a couple o' years now. He came early, barely survivin' childbirth, and shows little signs o' growth; you've seen how he's the smallest of his age!" Spitelout gestured. "And I dunnae think I need ta remind you o' how many winters he's spent lyin' in bed sick!"

That, Spitelout had a point on Stoick figured. Hiccup had, for the longest time, had been a very sickly child. Every time the frost settled in on the island, Hiccup would always end up bedridden with a fever, coughing and sneezing harshly with little energy to even sit up in bed. By the time of his fifth year, he hardly even needed to alert the healers before they started coming in themselves. His illnesses were easy enough to treat, it was just the frequency of them that got under people's skin. He had been told it was in part Hiccup's poor appetite and skinny frame that contributed to it, his body not getting the proper nutrients it needed to fend off the sickness. Stoick had always tried to feed Hiccup more upon hearing it, but too much and he would just vomit it all out afterwards.

"And his health, or lack thereof, is just the tip o' the iceberg! He can' even look a' a dagger without flinchin', let alone wield it. Arms like thread, a spine like jelly, it's all enough ta question how strongly the Haddock blood runs in him."

Stoick scowled. "Get to the point, already. Headache or not, he's still my boy and I'm not too fond o' hearing people mock him."

"The point is, make him chief and Berk'll be the laughin'stock o' tha whole archipelago!" Spitelout shouted. Lucklily, the rest of the Vikings over at the other table could hardly hear him due to the off-key singing and small fist fights had amongst the Vikings at their own table. "The Hooligan Tribe needs a proper heir, Stoick; your son is no leader."

"Are you suggestin' I betray my wife and bear a child with another woman?" Stoick growled. Even the thought angered him; such an action would be nothing short of betrayal to his beloved wife Valka. He would never forget how that four winged dragon appeared on that fateful night seven years ago when Hiccup was still a baby and took her away to devour her. His nightmares were still haunted by her screams of his name as she vanished, a constant failure of his vow to keep her safe and their family whole. As angry as he was with Hiccup, his son was an epitaph of his wife, his last remaining piece of her, and he swore upon her grave that he would watch over him.

"Of course not, brother; I know you still bear the weight of Valka's death within you. Far be it from me or any of us to befoul the memory of the dead." Spitelout apologized as he placed his hand on Stoick's shoulder in an act of comfort. "But keep in mind… there is another…"

Stoick just stared for a moment pondering Spitelout's cryptic words before the realization dawned on him. "Oh… this again!?" He slammed his mug upon the table, its metal base producing a hard cracking sound. "Spitelout, we've had this discussion a thousand times! Your son cannot be chief!"

"Snotlout is the strongest boy on Berk! He can wrestle down a yak in a few minutes tops!"

"And yet he is not a direct descendant of the current chief," Stoick added. "Succession has always been ruled by bloodlines. You would argue a boy who carries little Haddock blood in favor of one who carries none at all?"

"He holds my name, but he still carries a Haddock's blood; our father's blood runs in my veins, and so it flows through his. And remember he was first in line, until your little runt showed up." He growled, suddenly rising from his chair. Between the two men, the surrounding noise blanked out, and all that could be heard by either of them was each other. "Just keep in mind who among the two of them is the better choice. I'm a patient man, my brother, I'll wait as long as it takes for you to see."

Stoick was ready to retort; Snotlout could wrestle down a yak, sure, but he had an ego the size of one to match. And Stoick knew it would only grow worse with time – soon enough the boy's attitude would become completely unbearable. He had hopes that Spitelout could maybe work it out of him, that it could just be a phase he was going through, since he seemed to be growing faster than most of the other children.

Then again, looking back on Spitelout's behavior in the past it was clear to see where Snotlout got his attitude from. A chief was an equal among his people, as Stoick learned from their father, and yet the Jorgenson clan had a nasty habit of looking down on the world. Just as he was about to state all this, though, a young girl with big blond pigtails came rushing into the hall. It was the Hofferson girl, Astrid, Stoick remembered. She looked highly distressed as she made it to the table where they were at.

"Chief! Haa… haa …" She panted heavily.

"What is it, lass?" Stoick asked, concerned.

"It's… Hiccup! He went into the woods!" She cried.

At that point, Stoick's face turned red with rage. "WHAT!? He was told a million times never to go into that forest!" He raised a hand to his head in frustration at his son's refusal to listen to orders before looking back to Astrid. "Find Gobber! Tell him to round up a search party and meet me at the entrance." Astrid obeyed and ran off to find the smith. Before headed out, Stoick took one last look at his astonished brother's face.

"We'll continue this later." Stoick said as he ran out the massive doors.

Spitelout only scowled at his brother's retreating figure. He had said that many times before some issue always came up regarding Hiccup. Perhaps, the man thought as he took one more bite out of his now lukewarm chicken leg, it was about time he took matters into his own hands.

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><p>Hiccup ran farther and farther through the woods, hopping off of logs and rocks and dashing through trees, vanishing into the abundant green all around him. The little black dragon was still flying after him, flapping his large black wings in an attempt to keep up with him, crying out over and over. Hiccup's fear grew stronger and stronger with each infantile shriek that passed the dragon's fangs, imagining all the ways said fangs could rend him to shreds. His legs were so tired from all the distance he had covered it felt like they were going to fall off, and his chest was on fire, but Hiccup didn't care. Even as he stumbled and wobbled, he just continued to run.<p>

He soon came upon the edge of a beautiful cove surrounded on all sides by a steep rocky slope. Within the cove was a lake being fed by a waterfall pouring out from the side of the slope; the lake looked shallow, possibly only a few feet deep. There were massive trees that grew atop the cliff tops that joined the ranks of the other trees alongside them, lush green leaves growing both above on their branches and below their roots that extended all the way to the cove floor. The ridges in the rock face were lined with moss and algae that also decorated the rocks sprinkled here and there around this environment. The rest was covered in a low-cut grass that looked softer than any blanket Hiccup might have ever been wrapped in. In another situation, Hiccup might have been completely enamored with how beautiful and peaceful this place was.

And yet he barely even had time to register the scenery as his foot teetered right over the edge of the slope. He wobbled and dangled, holding out his thin arms in a desperate attempt to keep his balance. Back and forth, back and forth… until finally he could hold on no longer and he fell.

He gritted his teeth, shut his eyes as tightly as possible, waiting for the first impact of his body against the slope. It would continue on and on until he landed at the bottom with multiple cuts and broken bones. But that first hit never came; instead he felt something snatch his arms and suddenly he could no longer feel the ground. The pressure on both of his forearms was strong; something had a hold of him and was not going to let him go.

He opened his eyes and looked up to see… the dragon, carrying him.

He was flying.

Hiccup gathered all the breath he could that he managed to regain after his long run and screamed his little lungs out. He grabbed the dragon's legs and kicked the air, crying out to try and get down. The dragon had to fold its ears back just to keep its senses stable – loud noises had a way of disorienting dragons after all. Luckily, it managed to keep itself steady as it circled down and eventually reached the ground.

The second his feet touched the earth once again Hiccup wrenched himself from the dragon's grasp and ran off, tripping and soon crawling over to a large moss-covered rock and pressing himself against it. He panted heavily watching the dragon settle itself on the ground and cock its head at him.

The dragon was hoping that by saving the human from the fall, that would convince him it wasn't bad and they could start playing. But the human was obviously still afraid, and the dragon was pondering what else it could do now to show the boy he was a friendly dragon.

A small, growling churning sound came out of nowhere and startled them both. The little dragon jumped and crouched down with teeth angrily bared, wondering if it was some other dragon coming to pick a fight or take the human away. It raised its wings in a threatening manner to make itself seem larger and darted its head around. Hiccup was both afraid and confused seeing the dragon before the sound came out again, along with a slight discomfort in his stomach. He held his hands to grab it and gulped before chuckling nervously.

"Um… I guess I'm kinda hungry. Nothing like being chased by a dragon to build up an appetite." He muttered.

The dragon was quite surprised to find that the sound had come from the human, apparently because it needed food. To think he sounded just like a dragon, it could hardly tell the difference. The dragon returned to its upright position and looked around before spotting the nearby lake, galloping over to it with childlike fervor.

Approaching the lake it bent its head down and peered through the murky surface, watching for any sliver of movement. Its keen eyesight was able to look through the multiple layers of dirt whereas a human like Hiccup would only be able to see a few inches. Spotting a sliver of silver scales, it raised its paw slowly and waited, before slapping down on the surface and causing a small fish to jump out of the water with a splash. The fish flew in the air before descending, and was caught in the now-standing dragon's mouth in an instant.

Impressed as he was with the dragon's fishing skills, and for Hiccup that wasn't saying much since he could barely catch an old boot when his father took him on fishing trips, Hiccup was still apprehensive when it came waddling back on only its hind legs. Still, he had to admit, it did make the reptilian menace look somewhat adorable. It landed back on all fours right in front of him and dropped the slimy thing in his lap; he jumped at how close it had gotten.

Hiccup visibly winced in disgust over the dragon's present, while it just leaned back and sat on its haunches and watched. For a short moment they just looked at each other before the dragon decided the little boy might not understand what he was supposed to do. It visibly gulped and looked down in the fish, and it quickly dawned on Hiccup, though not without great discomfort. The dragon wanted him to eat the fish.

He picked it up and just stared at it for a moment. "Um… I can't eat this. It's raw and I'll get sick."

The dragon cocked its head and looked down at the fish again before running off to grab a few sticks of wood. Clever as it was, it breathed with a small stream of fire, making Hiccup recoil back, and created a quaint little campfire.

Hiccup just watched the bright flames crackle and burn away at the wood and the sparks float into the air, while the dragon was looking at him expectantly once again. Did this dragon understand what it said and made this fire for him? But his father said that dragons were mindless, selfish animals; how could such a creature comprehend what he had just said? Regardless of the answer, the dragon did make a nice fire to keep him warm and cook his fish – he might as well keep it from going to waste.

Taking a nearby stick, he drove it through the fish and held it over the fire, waiting a few moments before the saliva had evaporated and it had blackened. He brought it back and took a small bite out of it, getting a rise from the dragon's ear flaps, humming in satisfaction while he chewed. All the while the dragon just watched, even as he set the fish back down on his lap and just stared at it for a few moments. Then the boy did something rather unexpected… he held the stick out towards the dragon.

"I'm full… y-you can have the rest." Hiccup said, a worried tremble in his voice, but not as much as before.

The dragon just looked at the fish for a moment, and then began to inch forward, tilting his head and opening his maw, letting Hiccup see his tiny little toothless gums. The dragon gave a small mew and closed its mouth slowly upon the fish so as not to startle the boy, pulled back and sat down again, chewing on the fish as he did before swallowing.

Hiccup just stared in amazement. "You don't have any teeth? You're toothless?"

The little dragon swallowed its meal, apparently not paying any attention to Hiccup's question; it just enjoyed the flavor of their shared meal. It licked its mouth to capture any remnants of the taste and watched as Hiccup rubbed his stomach and let loose a small smile. They then just returned to watching each other in peaceful silence.

Hiccup couldn't help but notice that little by little, his fear of the creature was slowly dissipating. They had been here for probably half an hour by now, and yet the dragon had done nothing to harm him. The exact opposite really, it made a toasty fire for him to get warm with and brought him fish when it noticed he was hungry, they even shared a meal together!

It didn't make any sense to Hiccup, seeing that the monster that his people had warned him about ever since the day he was born, one of the demons that his people mercilessly slaughtered so as to end their greed, was being so gentle and kind. Really, it was acting kinder than most people he knew, and this was a creature that supposedly had no sense of heart or conscience. But if what the warriors and his father had been telling him was wrong, then Hiccup could only wonder just what it was that was sitting in front of him.

Leaving such heavy thoughts aside, Hiccup turned away and looked to the stick in his hand, and had an idea. He stood up and walked away to sit on a nearby rock, and used the stick to draw in the dirt. Hiccup had always been good at drawing, even when he was very young he drew beautiful pictures of everything he could find: the Great Hall, the houses, the trees, the ocean, the mountain in the distance of the island and the sea stacks surrounding it. His father never had the time to look at his pictures, which always made Hiccup sad, but never for very long. Drawing was always a way for him to take his mind off of things, just as it was now as he lost himself in moving the stick through the earth and forming the picture.

Another stick collided with his just as he was completing a line, and he turned to see the dragon, a large stick about Hiccup's length in its mouth. The dragon had been watching him from over his shoulder as he drew, and was amazed at the human's seemingly magical ability to form pictures in the earth. It seemed simple enough, so it decided to try. Hiccup just looked at the dragon cooing and purring before turning back to his picture, and was surprised to see that he had actually drawn the dragon's image. Even while unfocused, the dragon was the only thing on his mind.

He looked up again to see the dragon hopping and prancing around with the stick, plowing the earth to make its own pictures. Hiccup thought it looked fun so he decided to join in, sticking his own stick back in the dirt and running around. The two went round and round in an innocent, childlike dance, skipping and twirling, mewling, and Hiccup was even laughing.

The lines were weaved over and over, parallel and across, they squiggled and darted, looped and circled. The two went on and on, until finally they collided into each other's backs and fell to the ground; they could not see it, but their subconscious minds had struck again. Though the picture was sloppy, from a higher view it appeared as a rough image of Hiccup and the dragon together.

Hiccup turned back around to see the dragon staring at him once more, but this time he could see the dragon's perfect round pupils. The sweetness in its gaze and the warm and gentle spirit it reflected, but something else as well, something… sad. He could swear it looked so familiar, and after a moment, he realized why. It was a look of loneliness, much like the loneliness he carried inside him – this little dragon must have been all alone, with no one to help or look after him. That was why the dragon followed him, that was why it was so nice; all it wanted was a friend. And really, wasn't he the same?

Realizing that, the dragon disappeared in his mind's eye, and it was as if Hiccup was looking into a mirror, seeing a perfect reflection of himself, more than just an image, but all his fears, all his thoughts, all he was, and all he wanted. It was almost frightening, seeing your true self like that, but Hiccup figured that maybe the dragon's open nature was a sign that it had seen the same in him, and suddenly, he didn't feel so alone.

Hiccup picked himself up and kneeled from the ground and stared right into the dragon's eyes, a million unspoken words being passed both within and between. A leap of faith, Hiccup heard in his mind, take a chance, and without any recognition into his actions, he raised a hand out to the dragon. The dragon's breath came out strong through its tiny nostrils, Hiccup could feel the warm air in between his fingers. Here he was, placing blind trust in a dragon not to bite his hand off, and it was quickly becoming too much to bear, and so he turned his head away.

The dragon watched and saw what Hiccup did, and knew this was the chance it had been waiting for. Without a sound, it bridged the gap, placing its snout, right into Hiccup's tiny hand.

A moment of pure transcendence between two souls of two different races – a multiverse of words _and_ emotions carried between. Two beings that knew nothing of war or hatred or violence had risen above it all, the darkness carried in the spirits of both their races, with eyes opened to what lied beyond the surface. Perfect understanding and pure trust passed through in such a simple gesture; a connection had been made, and those two souls that so flawlessly mirrored each other… had become one. Looking back on it from years ahead, they would never have known that that one moment would lead to the start of a greater destiny than anyone could ever imagine.

But for now, they could simply take in the purity and power of the moment they and their hearts touched one another. Hiccup looked back to the dragon with its snout still in his hand… and he smiled.

The dragon pulled back and opened its eye to look at the boy who was finally his friend, and peered curiously at his gesture. Then, slowly, the corners of its mouth began to tilt up, its mouth opening up ever so slightly, more and more. Hiccup just watched as the dragon mimicked his smile with what looked to be a smile of its own. And his only grew larger and brighter.

He then burst into a fit of giggles. "Wow, you're smiling!" The dragon barked cheerfully, his mouth showing less signs of strain and the smile becoming more natural.

Hiccup calmed himself down enough to look into its mouth again, once more taking notice of its lack of teeth. "So you really don't have any teeth?" He asked.

The dragon looked down into its own mouth, and in an instant, a set of sharp white teeth jutted out from its gums. Small though they were, Hiccup still had to jump when he saw them, landing on his hands a few inches back. The dragon quickly returned the teeth to its mouth and trotted over to Hiccup to see if he was alright, asking as such in a quiet high-pitched croon and a nudge to the shoulder. Hiccup just giggled more at the surprise.

"So you do have teeth! And here I thought you were toothless…" Hiccup had a thought then. "Hey, how 'bout if I call you 'Toothless?'"

The little dragon – Toothless – let out a purr of agreement at his new name, and Hiccup gave a giggle and a small pet on his snout. So it would be then… Hiccup and Toothless.

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><p><strong>Review, favorite, follow. I'm sorry this new chapter took a while. I don't really know how often I'll be able to keep the updates up. Maybe once a week, probably around Saturday. I've got a lot on my plate right now, and writing a new 5000+ word chapter constantly on top of all that is pretty taxing. But I will try and get these in as soon as I can!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**All right, this one was a bit tricky, but I managed to get it in. I hope you guys like the HicTooth fluff I put in - mark my words there is gonna be a lot of that in this story. People just really love the HicTooth fluff. I'm thinking nw, until further notice, I will submit a new chapter every Saturday, and with Thanksgiving break coming up, I should have plenty of time to work on the next chapter, so stay tuned.**

**All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.**

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><p>The sun bled and shone through the needles and leaves of the trees from above, the light turning redder and redder from the waning day, shadows growing longer and stretching out across the ground in tandem. A symphony of nature resounded all around them, from the flowing water to the birds chirping and insects buzzing, to the blowing wind in the area.<p>

An hour or two had passed since the cove's only current inhabitants had met and bonded, spent mostly through frivolous play. Games of tag, swimming or splashing in the pond, or hopscotch along the rocks without touching the ground, whatever came into Hiccup's mind. By now all their energies had been spent, and their tuckered out bodies now lay on the ground peacefully asleep.

Hiccup was sprawled out on the grass, breathing softly with his mouth open and his eyes closed, the soft bed beneath him more comfortable than his normal wooden plank one back at his house. Toothless was draped over him like a black scaly blanket, his right wing stretched out, tail wrapped around Hiccup's feet, head atop his little chest and paws wrapped around him like a stuffed animal in a child's grasp. His small purrs filled Hiccup's head with sweetened thoughts of their games stretching out into the wee hours, as fun and exciting as those from moments earlier. They were in a different realm where they were the only ones that existed, wearing smiles brighter than stars and able to carry on with their play for all eternity, undisturbed by outside forces.

One force though would not be denied, it shook the earth and sky of their little dream world, a noise as loud as thunder. It sounded out with a loud, resounding "HICCUP!"

The dream shattered and Hiccup's eyes snapped open, wide as saucer plates; he let loose a sharp yelp and a shuddering gasp from his sudden awakening. Bolting upright, he disturbed Toothless, the dragon rolling away onto the grass and shaking his own head. The cry sounded out once more, startling Toothless into a fully alert state; he ran over to Hiccup and curled his tail around his human friend in a protective manner, growling at the as of yet unseen foe.

"HICCUP, GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Hiccup flinched at the voice, his clear mind now recognizing who it belonged to. With a sigh, he raised himself up and placed a hand onto Toothless's side, looking at the dragon with dejected eyes.

"That's my daddy. He's probably looking for me…" He mumbled.

He felt he should have been relieved to hear the voice of his father calling out to him, a clear sign that he was concerned and had dropped all his taxing demands as chieftain to search for him. A chance that perhaps he was willing to forego that face and voice of anger and shame that had become so terrifying and yet recently so common. However, hearing his father's tone and recalling everything that had occurred right before he went into the forest, he found he was more saddened than anything else. Playing with Toothless had given him a perfect escape from all the stress and angst just now beginning to appear in his relationships with everyone, but it had to end eventually, Hiccup knew.

His father was quickly becoming impatient, he also realized; a minute or two longer and he would most likely start ripping trees out of the ground. Hiccup figured it probably was time to leave anyway, even if he had his doubts that the village truly missed him or even noticed his absence, and so looked around to find an exit from the cove. He spotted one in between two of the large rock walls, just thin enough for someone like him to effortlessly squeeze through.

He started to make his way over to the exit, but found himself stopped dead in his tracks, his green tunic yanked from behind him. He looked back to see Toothless with tunic in his mouth, eyes pleading and whimpering like a dog that had lost its favorite bone or toy. The sight was enough to make anyone, especially Hiccup, break down, but Odin only knew what would happen if his father found a dragon with his son. The numerous statues and sculptures of mutilated dragons around Berk gave him a pretty clear idea though.

"Toothless…" He groaned and grunted while trying to yank his shirt out of the dragon's mouth. "Let go! I have to go back now!" The keyword was '_had'_ – truthfully he didn't want to leave any more than Toothless wanted to see him go.

Toothless just whimpered more, even began to growl, and shook his head while clamping onto the woven shirt harder. The concept of fathers and the necessity of departure was completely lost on the little dragon – all he knew was that his boy – he was referring to the little human as _his_ boy now – was going away. For a brief moment the dragon was flooded with fear that somewhere in their chain of games he had probably done something to upset him, but with that smile Hiccup wore the whole time for the life of him he couldn't understand what.

Unlike the majority of his kind, he was simply naïve towards deceitful natures held by most humans. He figured it might have had something to do with the voice calling out; he was more than convinced it was something bad now to make his boy possibly not like him anymore and want to leave.

"Stop it, Toothless! My dad's… calling… I need to go home!"

Hiccup tugged on his tunic repeatedly to try and pry it out of Toothless's jaw, but still the dragon held firm. Their game of tug-of war just went on, neither side giving an inch, Hiccup attributing his new friend's behavior to sheer stubbornness. Back and forth, back and forth, neither of the two even noticed that the fabric was starting to give out and tear.

Finally, it ripped, sending both younglings fling back, Hiccup colliding on the ground with a good piece of his tunic torn away, Toothless still holding the torn piece in his mouth. The dragon immediately rushed up to check and see if Hiccup was okay, nudging his shoulder and sniffing and whimpering softly. Hiccup picked himself up to gaze into his worried eyes and reached out a hand to pet him on the head.

"Toothless, please. I have to go home." He repeated once again. "But I promise, I'll come back. I'll find a way to sneak out and we can play all day."

That response seemed to instill some manner of confidence into his little friend, because his stance had shifted somewhat to a more relaxed position. Still, his pleading look demanded some confirmation of that. Hiccup could recognize that: that need to know if friendship, especially a newly formed one, could weather obstacles such as separation and survive. Unseen forces beyond the control of the children they were had been what pulled him and Astrid apart, though she seemed content to be guided in their direction.

She was on the verge of cutting off all ties with him for the sake of a future she was ready to throw everything considered trivial away for, and seemed to have the perfect justification for it. It had shaken him to the core to see that she could turn her back on him so easily, but Toothless wasn't like her; having touched in body and soul, Hiccup could beyond any doubt consider him a true friend.

"I promise… Toothless."

He just held the gaze for as long as he could, hearing Toothless's panicked breathing eventually settle down into a calm purr. He pulled away and gave Hiccup a small lick to the face, Hiccup laughing at the feel of his slimy tongue. He grabbed Toothless's head and neck and gave him a brief hug before breaking loose and headed for the break in the rock.

"Bye, Toothless! I'll see you… tomorrow!" He waved as he ran.

The dragon barked back as he waited there, wagging his tail and licking his lips. All it would take was a day, and he would see Hiccup again.

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><p>Hiccup ran through the woods, wracking his short-term memory through all the excitement of playing with Toothless to remember the path through the cove. He tried his best to think on his feet while just traversing through the path, hoping the right way would present itself. Bushes and sticks cracked along the ground, grass fluttered in the breeze created by the rush of his little body, and low hanging branches were swept away in his wake. He made it past the big rock where he first found Toothless and hopped over the old rotting log, just trying to get as far as possible from the cove in the hope his father wouldn't track down his path to the cove where Toothless was.<p>

Dashing through, he spotted something over in the distance at the corner of his eye, and backtracked to get a closer look. A large group of masses, traveling together, in hues of greens, grays, and browns far into the forest's dense ranks of trees and shrubbery. Hiccup could identify the lead one as his father by the red beard and slightly larger size compared to the others that helped him earn his name.

Judging by the others with him, it would seem that he had organized a full search party to hunt the little escapee down. Hiccup grimaced at the sight of the men armed with their sharpest and heaviest battle-axes and swords, barely even able to picture the bloodbath that might have occurred should they have found him moments before in the cove.

Hiccup crossed the distance from his path to theirs, swerving past the trees in between to intercept the group. The multitude of branches and pine needles barely allowed any sunlight to get through, leaving the path cloaked in a shadow that darkened the ground and hid various rocks and fallen pinecones from his sight. He had actually stubbed his toes on a few of the wayward stones, but managed to overall traverse through the trees safely.

"Daddy!" Hiccup cried from inside the trees, alerting the Vikings to raise their weapons in response.

Hiccup emerged from the low hanging branches, feeling his skin itch from the needles that had managed to stick to his cloak and irritated his sensitive skin underneath. He nearly fell back in shock upon seeing all of the men with their weapons up looking as if ready to attack him. But Stoick had managed to snap out of his battle-ready state and rather harshly grabbed Hiccup by the arm and pull him forward.

"Hiccup! What do you think you're doing!? How many times have I warned you never to go into the forest by yourself!?" He angrily yelled.

The boy was left terrified by his father's angry tone and grip as tight as a vice, ready to crush his arm at any moment. One thing that struck him though was that he didn't even bother to ask if he was alright, he had just gone straight into reprimanding him. There wasn't even a hint of concern in his features, just a glare strong enough to spook a bear into fleeing that spoke of how he was ready to deal punishment regardless of who found who first.

"I-I-I was j-just…" Hiccup stuttered, unable to form a single word in the face of his father's intimidating stature.

"I give you a single, simple order and you don't listen! Time 'n time again I've spoken of these woods being no place for children! If Astrid hadn't told me about your runnin' off, you would have been some wild animal's aftarnoon snack by the time I got here!"

"A pret'y ligh' aftarnoon snack…" chimed in Gobber, who was standing right behind Stoick and twirling his braided moustache. A glare from Stoick shut the crippled smith right up.

He turned back to Hiccup and if it were even possible, his angered look doubled in intensity. "Are you tryin' ta make me look foolish? First that contraption and now this, gallavantin' off into unknown territory?"

"B-but, daddy-"

"This is no way for the heir of Berk ta act! I hope at tha' very least you have a good explanation for disobeyin me!" He let go of Hiccup and crossed his arms in an impatient manner, staring down at the boy like a giant would an insect. His large size cast a shadow that caged Hiccup within its radius, freezing him to the spot where he stood. "Well, out with it, boy!"

Hiccup fidgeted in place, looking down at the ground and overall doing his best not to look the fiery-haired and tempered chief right in the eye. He figured it might be pointless, but he might as well try. "W-Well, S-Snotlout and the others… um, they were… they were b-bullying me… and…"

A normal father who had a greater sense of care for their child would have stopped everything and asked for more information, and said he would have a talk with the parents of the bully in question. Stoick however, who only saw the cowering child in front of him as another immature youth of his tribe rather than the son he was, only scoffed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. Not even the mention of bullying or his child's suffering could have triggered the small scraps of fatherly instinct within him.

"Enough, Hiccup! Don' go blaming others for your insubordination - I will not accept such shameful actions!" He held out a hand towards the boy in signal to halt before bending down and jabbing him with a finger to the chest, making the boy fall over. "You have a great responsibility to the people, you're going to be chief of this tribe one day!" He scolded. "How do you expect ta be a proper leader, rally warriors and give direction when ya cannae even follow those that have been given to you?"

He would have put it past the young boy, but Hiccup was thinking about the whole 'succession to chief' thing for a long time now. Of course he had decided from the very beginning that he didn't really want to be a chief. Sure he said that he was going to be chief one day to people, but that was so he could hold on to what little respect people carried for him. He had left silent any personal feelings on the matter long ago figuring that he would have had little choice in the matter, any complaints he would utter falling on deaf ears. He couldn't imagine himself organizing repairs and hunting trips, issuing decrees for new laws, being stuck in stuffy rooms for war meetings, and overall maintaining stability in a village of rowdy, rude, and brutish Vikings faced with an ongoing centuries old war. Besides, it's not like anyone would listen to him or give him any quarter as a leader anyway – not even of age yet and he could hear whisperings of who else might be qualified for the job.

"I-I'm sorry, dad…" Hiccup whimpered, his affectionate spin of 'daddy' now officially tossed out to sea. He didn't have room to be a child now, not when so many were breathing down his neck and expecting so much of him.

Sighing heavily, Stoick grabbed Hiccup by the collar of his tunic and was ready to pass him off to Gobber when he noticed the huge tear in the back. His eyes widened and annoyance came back in full swing. Shaking Hiccup with a violent jerk, he shouted again. "What is this!? What happened to yur tunic!"

Hiccup gulped, not sure what he should tell his father; a single word of Toothless and his father would ground him for eternity. What's worse, Toothless might end up a pelt on the floor or a blanket for some thuggish child like Snotlout once he tracked him down and drove a sword through his head. He could say some wild animal chewed it up, but that was more than likely to get Stoick even madder as it would only have proved his point on the dangers of the woods. Thinking quickly, he responded.

"Uh, uh… I-I-I was just, um, playing, and uh… my tunic got caught, on… a branch. Really got stuck there… and-and I, and I tugged, and it just… um, err, tore off. My favorite tunic, totally ruined, just like that. I-I mean, the seamstress put a lot of effort into it, it was just so woolly and soft, and it was my favorite color and…" he rambled on and on, a tendency of his whenever he got nervous or when he tried to lie and failed miserably.

"Tha huge tear… came from a branch?" Gobber asked skeptically, his eyebrow raised and his hook pointed straight at him.

"I-It was… a really pointy branch?" He questioned more than answered. By now it should have been obvious, even to the densest Viking on the island that he was lying.

But his father seemed too exhausted and annoyed to really care; he just rubbed a hand to his face to wipe the fatigue his unruly son gave away. "Just… forget it. Gobber, take him back to the house." He passed the boy off, who was recaptured by the smith's hook. "From now on, he's not ta leave the house except ta go to the forge, an' I want an escort with him at all times when he does."

"An' where're you going ta be?" Gobber asked.

"Preparing the ships – we're settin' sail for the nest." Hiccup's eyes fell down to the ground again and his face saddened. His father had been hunting for the dragon's nest ever since he was born, each search more fruitless than the last. He would spend days gathering crews and loading weapons onto their armed boats only to lose them all once they sailed into the bogs of Helheim's Gate and come out with almost as many singes and cracks on their vessels as hairs in their beards.

But however many failures he experienced only seemed to push him further in his pursuit to destroy it and drive the dragons away to find a new nest. Results aside, the trips had cause him to spend long months away from home, and they had occurred with such frequency that Hiccup had started to think there was more to it than his desire to free Berk of the 'devils' menace.'

"Shoulda known tha' was coming…" Gobber said. "Right, come on, ya lit'l fishbone. Off we go." He started to make way back to the village with Hiccup in tow, passing the other men who all had tired looks on their faces and slouched postures, hefting their weapons on their shoulders or hanging limply from their sides.

Hiccup turned back to his father one last time, not sure what he wanted to say but just feeling he needed to say something. Whether to perhaps advise him against searching for the dragon's nest or to try telling him about Snotlout again, it simply started as "But, dad-"

"I said no excuses! I am very disappointed in you, Hiccup; it's about time you stopped these childish games and learn ta grow up!" That was all Stoick said as he trudged ahead, not even sparing his hurting son a second glance.

As soon as he was ahead, he just gave yet another heavy sigh, slowing his pace and letting fatigue sink in. Beyond anyone else's opinion, he was perfectly aware that that may not have been the best way to handle the situation. He remembered how his own father had been a bit fairer whenever he had gotten in trouble, but those moments were few and far between. Stoick had always been a model son and obeyed his father without question, even when his father ordered him to bang his head against rocks or punch through trees and jump off cliffs to help him see a viking's true strength.

Whenever he asked the same of Hiccup, he had always been met with rebellion, his son slapping logic in the face of his claims. He imagined how his dead wife Valka, who was less taken to violence than most others in Berk would have handled the situation with a more gentle touch and a calmer demeanor. She had always been better at this sort of thing, talking to and comforting children, and would have all the time to do it being expected to stay home with Hiccup were she still alive.

But he couldn't think of 'what ifs' or 'how would they do its' now; he was on his own, a single father who had admittedly something of a problem child, and had to figure things out for himself in the midst of trying to keep a whole village together. He was trying to protect him, prepare him for his future, and if that included overly strict discipline to ensure Hiccup wouldn't repeat his many mistakes, so be it.

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><p>The last rays of the sun were disappearing over the horizon by the time the group had made it back to the village, casting the island into the early moments of dusk and turning the vibrant blues of the sea to a near black. The first torches were already being lit up on the front of the houses, being carried around by men who were still carrying out last-minute duties, or up on the high beams that would allow clear searches of the night sky for any possible dragon attacks. Each of these individual flames dotted throughout lighted the path back down to their destination, the chief's house on the hill.<p>

The other men had already returned to their homes the second they had passed the forest's edge back into Berk. Children and women were coming inside after a hard day's work, while Stoick was on his way to the Great Hall to spend another long night making preparations for the new hunt. Hiccup let out another sigh; obviously that meant his father wouldn't be around to wish him goodnight. Not that he ever did, really.

His father's indifference towards him was as cold as the biting evening wind that no longer had the daylight heat to warm its touch and seeped into his open ended tunic and chilled his skin. Every day, it was one excuse or another to make sure they didn't spend any time together, either he had somewhere to go or he made sure that Hiccup did, always falling back on the old 'a chief's duty is to his people' rant.

It was the same as Astrid: everywhere he went people were coming up with whatever reason they could to avoid him. It was an ongoing crusade in the minds of the villagers to ensure that they saw as little of the boy as possible throughout the day. In the back of his mind, Hiccup questioned why it was such a big deal that he went missing into the woods if this was true. It certainly wasn't like anyone would miss him if he was gone.

And looking around, that very well seemed to be the case. They passed several people on their way over, and not one of them even bothered to make eye contact with him. No one even noticed or cared that he had gone missing, and he was supposed to be the heir. The most important boy in their village, supposedly and he wasn't even worth their time, it seemed. It was enough to place dark thoughts into the child's mind…

…Which weren't made any better when a rugged Viking built as well as his father trudged up. His uncle and Snotlout's father, Spitelout. His heavy footsteps had managed to catch the attention of Gobber, who was still dangling Hiccup by his collar. With a limping turn, he faced the approaching second-in-command.

"Ah, evenin', Spitelout." Gobber greeted.

"I see you've managed ta catch our lit'l runaway." Spitelout said, always the type to get down to business.

Gobber only scowled slightly at his response. Sure, children weren't his most favorite people in the world, but he always had a particular distaste for Spitelout's harsher than necessary attitude toward them. He had always been one to care more about glory and achievement than things that really mattered like family. A good look at the mantle above his house's fireplace was proof of how he tended to favor stoking the fires of his ego, the wood littered with nothing but medals and trophies from wins in his youth. It was already clear from earlier today that his pompous attitude had passed onto his son, and in Gobber's opinion, the only thing worse than one Spitelout was one and a half Spitelouts.

"Yeah, gutsy, ain't 'e? Headin' out inta the woods…" Gobber mused, hoping to bolster Hiccup's status.

"Valor and carelessness are two very different things, Gobber." Spitelout said crossing his arms. "But nevar mind tha', why don' you let me take the lad home? I'm sure you've plenty o' things to take care of over at tha' forge…"

If there was one word that summed up Gobber's expression at that moment, it was suspicion. Spitelout hardly showed generosity to anyone. Just the opposite, as opposed to Stoick, Spitelout was more harsh and demanding, a man who expected perfection from everyone. Stoick believed in a sense of community, whereas Spitelout insisted that everyone carry their own weight and solve issues by themselves. No way would he willingly lend a helping hand unless there was some ulterior motive, not that he was all that proud of that kind of shifty attitude.

"Migh'y kind o' ya, worryin' as tha' is, but s'not a problem." He said. "Chief's orders, get him home an' make sure he stays there."

"Oh, but tha' doesn't haf'ta mean you, necessarily." Spitelout argued.

"You know yur brother – man 'o few words. Pretty sure it's implied."

"Oh, I do know ma brother, and he'd want everyone in their proper place fulfillin' their duties."

"I think a' can handle getting' a seven year old to his house." Gobber deadpanned. Hiccup meanwhile, just watched his mentor trade banter with his uncle, preferring to keep his eyes on the former.

"Like you could handle keepin him in the forge doin' his job?" Spitelout countered, earning a heated glare from Gobber. "Look, all I'm sayin' is tha' it's important we're where we're needed most. The raids come whenever they will, and we need tae be prepared tae defend our stores and homes at a moment's notice – you wouldnae want a man ta fall just because they were ill-prepared, would you?"

As much as he hated to admit it, Spitelout did have a point; they needed proper weapons to fight, and Gobber was the one who handled all weapon creation and repair. Though they could boast that they did, Vikings couldn't just go into battle armed with kitchen utensils or any other kind of metal. They needed blades sharp enough to split hairs and sturdy enough to remain pristine even after they had hacked into 100 dragons each. With a heavy sigh, Gobber handed Hiccup over to Spitelout, and started to hobble off to the forge to finish his day's work, tuning to look at the two from the corner of his eye.

"You jest watch yerself." He simply stated.

Spitelout, who held Hiccup, again by the scruff of his tunic, gave a sly grin. "Let's nae be too rough on the lad."

"I was talkin' tae you." Gobber said, and with that he headed down to the forge.

Spitelout, meanwhile, had let his grin fade away completely, replacing it with a dark scowl of disgust as he carried Hiccup through the village and back to his home. Hiccup kept his head down the whole way, something inside him telling him to avoid the gaze of the larger man as much as he could. He had tried to speak with his uncle several times along the way, whether about Snotlout or daily things around the village, but barely any sounds could escape his throat when he defied his better judgment and glanced up at his uncle's face. It suddenly felt twice as cold as they walked up the stone steps that lead to the Haddock household on the hill, stopping at the front door.

As soon as Spitelout carelessly dropped Hiccup on the floor, the boy landing less than gracefully on his rear, he was ready to turn back. He was stopped, however, by a hastily blurted out. "Wait!"

He turned back to see Hiccup at the doorstep, fidgeting in place with his hands right behind his back. Such a sight only left Spitelout more disgusted with the boy than he already was, a posture such as that completely unbecoming for a Viking. Everything about the boy screamed weakness, a trait he could not accept in any member of his tribe, and he took satisfaction in the knowledge that he wasn't alone.

Hiccup, after a few seconds, finally worked up the nerve to finish his statement. "Um, thanks… f-for bringing me home…"

Spitelout only stood there and glared daggers at the boy, causing him to flinch even more. "Y-You didn't have to do that… I-I mean, go to… to all that trouble…"

"No, I shouldn't have…"

Hiccup dared to glance up and meet the icy cold stare of his unforgiving uncle. "No one should havtae waste their time on a useless weaklin' like you. You're a disgrace to all of Berk, all Vikings everywhere, and it shames us tae no end to be saddled with you as an heir."

It hurt, it hurt to hear those words, the most painful words he had heard both today and in a long while. They hurt more than anything Astrid, Snotlout, or his father could say, because while they only danced around the subject, here his uncle was saying it as clear and blunt as possible. A thousand axes had cut right through his heart at that moment, pressing down on the blades so the blood would pour out like a waterfall. With each step his uncle took towards him, the blade pressed further in, until he bended down and whispered in as low a tone as he could possibly muster.

"You don't belong here."

And with that he stomped off, leaving Hiccup to stand there in devastated silence. A good five minutes of staring out at empty space had passed before he finally shut the door.

Hiccup just quietly steeped up the stairs of his dark, empty home up to his room and hopped into his hard bed without bothering to change into a new tunic, wrapping himself as tightly as possible with the blankets. All he wanted to do was drift to sleep and hopefully drown out the horrible memories of today, of all the misery he went through at the hands of people he thought he could trust.

He only wanted to remember the good memories, all of which involved that little black dragon probably still waiting there in that cove in the woods. He just wanted to lose himself in the happy moments of playing with Toothless, eating with Toothless, napping with Toothless, and the promise to see Toothless again. Forcing his brain to focus on those memories alone, not allowing even a half-second to recall the scolding, abusive voices of his 'people,' he eventually wore himself out and fell into a deep sleep.

He had expected, in his subconscious mind, to dream of big adventures he would have with Toothless. He had thought of the two of them sailing the seas on a big ship, navigating through the waves and staring out across the horizon. He thought of them climbing up the huge mountain on the side of the island, and looking down on the world once they had reached the top. He dreamed of every possible adventure he could have with Toothless, big or small, land or sea.

He didn't expect the inexplicable images that popped into his mind, hazy visions that gave such a sense of foreboding.

_A man dressed in armor as black as night, wielding swords resembling dragon wings that burned with purple fire on the back of a large black dragon._

_The two flying through a kingdom of large buildings, ancient in appearance, beneath a heavily overcast sky._

_A dragon the size of a mountain, breathing massive torrents of fire that could melt rock to nothing._

_The flames turning to surges of ocean water that froze upon impact, from the mouth of a just as massive black dragon that locked its mighty tusks with another of its kind, colored white._

_Skeletal draconic creatures with hides of blackened mist filling the sky, some large enough to carry bone-like castle structures upon their backs, commanded by an intimidating man with scars littering his face, a metal arm, and a large hooked staff_

_The rider and dragon turning into a streak of blue light with a black outline that zipped through multiple ships at lighting speed and decimated them in terrible explosions before bursting into the sky._

_A flash of light._

_And in front of him, a strange sword with strings along the blade and switches upon the hilt. He grasped it with a single hand, and the blade came alight with flame._

Hiccup suddenly gasped and awoke, sitting upright in his bed with sweat pouring down his tiny, freckled cheeks. He gripped the blanket as tight as he could, his mind littered with confusion over the strange dream. Could he even call it a dream? Well, whatever it was, out of his bafflement, he knew one thing for certain.

He had to see Toothless again.

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><p><strong>Sorry if everybody is coming off a bit harsh to poor little Hiccup, but there is a purpose for all of it. As for the dream sequence, there's a thing with that. It was written to give you guys a preview of what's to come in future chapters. Give you guys a chance to test the waters, so to speak. If you like how it's sounding, then as I always say: review, favorite, follow! If you're already along for the ride, hope you stay on!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**A hundred and twelve, count 'em, a hundred and twelve followers already! Wow, I am just blown away by this, just chapter five and this story has reached such a milestone already. And we haven't even gotten to the juicy stuff. I am so glad that so many of you have fallen in love with this story already, and I'm also thankful for your suggestions for the story. I won't make any major changes, but there are a couple of things I'm taking into consideration.**

**I'd also like to say thanks The StarsShadow15 for his kind words. I find I have similar tastes in comparison to my writing style – I'll be honest, bad spelling and grammar are one of the biggest turn-offs for me in a fic. I'll stick with it if I like the story, but it is a real pet peeve for me. Sparse details, on the other hand, I'll live with, for me it's still all a matter of where the story's going.**

**Anyway, enough of my two cents, here's the next chapter, enjoy!**

**All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.**

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><p>Hiccup awoke to greet the next day with mixed emotions: to forget about the joy and misery of yesterday and to face those of today as well. He stifled a yawn and climbed out of bed, pulling away the covers and quickly setting the blanket back neatly. Giving his back a stretch from hours of sleeping on the hard wood, he remembered based on the touch of exposed skin that he was still in the tunic Toothless had torn from yesterday in his franticness to keep him in the cove.<p>

He walked over, lazily rubbing an eye to the closet and grabbed his stool to reach up to the tunics hung up on the shelf. Hiccup mentally chided himself for being as short as he was as he strained with clenched eyes and gritted teeth with a hand on the wood wall to reach even a single sleeve. He managed to lock two fingers around a small bit of one and pulled it down, but not without all the others falling on top of him in a large pile. His scruffily haired head popping up, he made a reminder to himself to reorganize later – he might as well or he'd just be giving his father one more reason to scold him.

And that, unfortunately, was the first thing that popped into Hiccup's mind: the scolding, the insults, and worst of all, the horrible things his uncle Spitelout had said to him yesterday. The stuff about being a disgrace and shame, how no one should have to waste their time on him and all that other junk. Hiccup sadly couldn't help but feel there to be truth in those last few words he said: that he didn't belong here.

What was he, truthfully, next to practically every other person, every able-bodied being capable of feats of strength and daring that inspired envy in all lesser men? The way, as his father said, Vikings could control the shifting tides and roaring waves of the seas, the way they could shape and break the earth and rip the trees from their seats in the ground. And here he was, someone who could barely even reach up to get a fresh tunic off a shelf in his closet without causing a mess. He felt that he probably deserved all those insults and glares everyone sent his way; that they had every right to treat him the way he did.

They called him 'Hiccup' as tradition stared was normal for referring to the runt of the litter, like they did with some baby animals, lambs or yaks born small and weak like him. A hiccup was a small sound people make when they didn't mean to after they had eaten to fast. A 'hiccup' was an accident made by people who had gotten their hopes up, like him.

With these depressing thoughts now bouncing through his head he made his way out of the room and trudged down the stairs to the dining table by the fireplace. The fire was lit, but the table was completely bare, missing any kind of food or drink. His father had either gotten out early to continue his preparations for the next nest hunt and forgotten to make breakfast or had stayed up at the Hall all night and never come home. Based on the fresh kindling on the flame it was more than likely the former. Either way, it was the same result as it seemed to be for many days in recent times, Hiccup had a whole house all to himself.

Like it mattered, though: his father's idea of cooking was to put a raw fish on the table and expect Hiccup to cook it himself, only to yank it away for any tiny little thing he got wrong and end up burning it over the fire. Hiccup would always force himself to eat even when the fish would be burned pitch black, while his father would stop caring entirely after just slapping it on the plate.

He wasn't really hungry anyway, just walking over to the cupboard and taking out a day-old loaf of bread and some jelly to smear it with. A cup of yak's milk from the barrel by the stairs, thank gods he didn't get it mixed up with the one full of mead, and his simple little meal was complete.

Taking a knife from the drawer, Odin forbid him being allowed to do that on his own, he bitterly though, he smeared the jelly on his bread. He applied a bit too much force, though, and a small splotch of it ended up on the table, splattered out. Groaning at yet another mess of his creation, he rushed back into the kitchen and grabbed a cloth to wipe the mess with. Taking the cloth and preparing to wipe, his hand stopped suddenly when he caught sight of the somehow familiar shape of the splotch. A triangular shape with two points sticking out near the top. A small smile appeared on his face while in its place in his eye a black, scaly face with big green eyes with bigger pupils stared back at him.

Toothless, that was the one good thing to happen to him all day yesterday, the dragon that he was so willing to call friend. Everything he had been taught since birth had told him that this was wrong in every possible way – Vikings and dragons were supposed to fight each other, not share meals and draw in the dirt.

Then again, he was no ordinary Viking, and Toothless was hardly any ordinary dragon, at least not like the ones that stole their food and killed all the time. Their outer shells hid beneath them two kindred spirits that were lost and had found acceptance and love in each other. He had a true friend, what did it matter what he was or what he looked like?

Then it occurred to him, he had never really seen any kind of dragon like Toothless before, one covered black from head to toe and could retract his teeth at will. His wings seemed pretty big, and the shot he used to light that fire was unlike anything the boy had seen. Most dragons he knew of, the common variety that appeared around Berk, came in a great variety of vibrant and exotic colors and shapes with numerous abilities. And their fangs and claws, much to the chagrin of the Berkians, stayed out at all times for all to see and experience for themselves. At least until they got knocked out by a stray hammer or fist to the face and strung into some fancy necklace, that is.

The Deadly Nadder, bird-like in appearance and possessing enough vanity for ten Snotlouts, had spikes jutting out of its head and could produce new ones from its tail. These spines could be fired at unsuspecting victims, the force and sharpness enough to run a row of three men through. They weren't really though much of, though, on account of their more agile and graceful characteristics in comparison to other dragons' more brutish, more prize-worthy looks and abilities.

The Gronkle, a more tough and brutish dragon compared to the last with a face that looked to be suffering from a bad case of acne. As silly as they looked with those tiny wings that buzzed like a hummingbird's or a bees, the Gronkle's ability to chew rocks and spit them out as scalding lava more than reminded him of its destructive capabilities.

The Terrible Terror, more an annoyance than an actual danger, due to it being one of the smallest dragons in existence. Even a fully grown Terror was about half the size of a sheep, and Hiccup had often though the Terrors might be more suited to be house pets than anything else. But his father and the village sought to wipe out every dragon that dared to set claw on their island, and the Terror was no exception.

The Hideous Zippleback, one of the more peculiar breeds on account of the fact that it had two heads instead of one. One head breathed a thick green gas that could be ignited into a cloud of flame once lit by the electric spark produced by the other head. Scary, but Hiccup did think it strange how two heads could work one body without any kind of complications.

And then, there was the most dangerous one of them all, the Monstrous Nightmare, the dragon that only the best of the best like his father could kill. The Nightmare was especially destructive due to not only being able to breathe but also light its own body on fire. A temperamental creature that could incinerate a whole forest in a single tantrum, it was hardly a wonder why this breed was the first one Vikings sought to take down.

Even when he had been trapped inside the house on those terrible nights when the raids were occurring and the village was being reduced to ashes by their flames, Hiccup was able to see each and every dragon from his window. He saw them as they flew by, taking notice of their shapes, their sizes, the sound of their screeches, the way they flew and how fast, any little attribute he could before they were captured, killed, or flew away with something. But out of this plethora of dragons that he had burned into his memory, none of them resembled the kind of dragon Toothless was at all. Just that one fact was enough to stir a sense of excitement in Hiccup, knowing that he had seen a dragon that no one else had.

'_Toothless… just what kinda dragon is he?' _Hiccup thought. '_Hmmm, maybe Gobber or Elder Gothi knows…'_

Next to his father, Gobber and the elder Gothi, the wise woman who knew all due to her strange rituals claimed to be communion with the Gods, were the smartest people he knew. Gothi in particular, since she could tell how long someone would live based on the look of their tongue, at least that's what stories said about her. Still, Hiccup would have to be careful with his words and avoid telling them about Toothless outright. He would have to find some other way to coax the knowledge out of them, exactly how he would find out later as he finished his breakfast quickly, risking getting a stomachache. He put the plate back in the kitchen and finished with his morning household chore of sweeping the floor, flinging the dust around with their old broom that had limited straws remaining on its end. He tossed the broom aside, grabbed a fur tunic, opened the door and bolted out without a second thought.

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><p>Another day of sun, but there were much more clouds rolling in over the skies of Berk than there were yesterday. The increasingly cold temperatures were another sign that the winter weather was coming in soon; well, the bad winter weather. The villagers had goosebumps on their skins and hairs standing on end that signaled the oncoming of fierce blizzards that would leave their crops devastated and their roads buried under several feet of snow. Hiccup figured soon would be a good time to grab that bear fur vest that the seamstress had made to brace himself against the cold, but whether anyone believed it or not, he could handle himself fine right now. Vikings big or small could and really had to handle a little cold, it was necessary in order to survive on the parlous floating rocks many tribes called home. Even if he got sick most of the time, winter never really bothered him much climate wise. Still, he knew that this would have been the worst time to suffer another dragon raid, when their farm animals would be relied on so heavily to provide food.<p>

Hiccup walked through the streets slightly huddling to himself to keep some warmth in – he could handle it, but not as well as others. He just held his hands lightly against his arms, just keeping up his pace to keep the blood flowing throughout his system. He could spot his destination from where he stood, the elder's house built atop a spire of rock around the front of the island. Gothi's hut was placed precariously at the top, converted from half of an old ship with holes carved in for the windows and the door. Moss grew along the hull and rim, while colorfully painted Viking shields were hung along the sides and near the entrance along wood fences nailed onto an overseeing platform. There were streams of short cloth fluttering in the breeze that looked to be banners of some kind, but upon closer inspection was really just the old woman's dirty laundry hanging to dry. Creaky, highly unstable steps unevenly placed ran along the side to the back of the house and along the wood poles holding the house upright. Really, given its age and shoddy construction, it was a wonder the place didn't fall apart within the first few weeks of being built. But then again, the house was probably like Gothi herself, old and fragile yet at the same time belying a tough as nails fortitude.

He was heading for the hut when he heard a mass commotion coming from the direction of the docks. Turning around for a moment and running up to the cliff above he could see that nearly the entire village had gathered on the plank bridges that ran along the cliffside to the small harbor where their ships were prepared. Men were hauling barrel-loads of weapons, every kind the forge had possessed the knowledge to craft, and loading them up unto the vessels, some carrying two or three barrels at a time. The sides had been decorated like Gothi's hut with painted Viking shields depicting the symbols of various clans around the island, their more pristine condition being the only difference. Others were pulling on the ropes and letting loose the large sails marked with the standard crest of a Viking face with an open jaw. The wind was already blowing strong and pushing the sails forward, rocking the boats against the water, while the steel anchors below kept them secured by the dock.

Several men and women are already boarding, each carrying their own basket filled with much-needed provisions for what was long known to be a dangerous, uncertain voyage. They were filled with everything from yak jerky and spare legs to satisfy stray hunger pains to bandages for quickly treating injuries to bolas and spare arrows for their crossbows. The area around where the nest was suspected to be was largely uncharted territory, and several boats had long since vanished there, lost to the dragon attacks that came without a hint of warning.

Vikings were more than willing to perish in a battle for glory, but that didn't mean they wouldn't go in prepared – Stoick certainly wouldn't have it. With the numerous women and children that had gathered upon the walkways to bid their loved ones farewell as they always did before another hunt, the chief wanted to ensure they would have someone come back for them.

"Get those barrels loaded! Ready to hoist anchor!" Shouted a booming voice from below.

And there was the man in question, standing there at the front of a ship, a particularly heavy basket slung along his back and a sword pocketed at his left side. His fur cape fluttered in the strong wind while he stared unflinchingly out to sea, probably telling himself what he always did, Hiccup figured. Today would be the day, today he would find the nest, take out the dragons, and ensure Berk's safety forevermore. He always said that, before each and every nest hunt, and every time, he would come back with a singed and broken boat, exhausted men, and an even fouler mood. Most were sure, including him, that this time would be no different.

Stoick had turned back and was now helping pull up a few more men onto the ship when he looked up towards the walkways and caught Hiccup's gaze looking back down on him. Seeing his father gaze at him was enough to make Hiccup visibly flinch, a movement even noticeable from the great chief's position below. Stoick only scowled and shook his head for whatever reason and looked away, turning his attention back to the prior task of helping his allies.

Hiccup had assumed he was still angry at him for his disobedience by going into the woods, for recklessly putting his life in danger for assumed reasons. It didn't matter, though – if he had never gone, he would never had met Toothless, and would be completely alone right now. If Hiccup knew such an amazing friend had been waiting for him inside the forest that day, he would have run in as quickly as his little legs could take him. But as happy as he was knowing that Toothless would be there for him, he admittedly would have liked it if his dad weren't so angry with him, which these days seemed to be all the time now.

"Set sail for Helheim's Gate!" Stoick cried.

With a push from the warriors chosen to remain behind, the boats were shoved off, letting the wind continue the journey, The tides shifted and churned, but otherwise remained calm; looking at the waters gave Hiccup a bad feeling of what might happen out there. The other children seemed to sense this too, waving at their brave fathers from the very edge of the docks and pathways, their other hands gripping firmly onto those of their mothers' for support. Hiccup could only imagine what that could be like, never truly knowing now that his own was gone forever.

Depressing thoughts aside, he reminded himself of his previous objective and set off to the elder's hut. He had someone waiting for him, after all.

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><p>It took a fair amount of climbing, both on the steps and scaling the rock with his own hands and feet, but he made it to the hut. The tunics and animal skins fluttered like ribbons that gauged the strength of the wind that blew upon them. The wind had managed to blow off stray traces of the moss that seeped into his nostrils and triggered a sneeze from the boy.<p>

He stood currently under the shadow of the figurehead of her home, the one that stood upon most houses – one of a dragon with a sword running through his skull. Looking up at it made Hiccup gulp with anxiety – even before meeting Toothless those figures had left him uneasy – but he turned away and instead focused on the old woman standing on the edge of the outlook.

The decrepit woman had braided white hair messily kept in braids with a tiny Viking helmet atop her head. She was bone thin, almost like him, but she had old age to back up her appearance, which also supported the large hunch she sported on her back. Her aged fingers still managed to grasp tightly onto the wooden staff she wielded, which drew pictures into a thin layer of dirt onto the ground. His sneeze from before had alerted her to his presence, and she slowly turned to face him, unfazed by the sudden sound. Gothi didn't seem too happy, but she didn't seem mad either – she sported a look of indifference, but everyone was still mad at him, and Hiccup figured she would be no different.

"Uh… H-Hi, miss Gothi…" Hiccup nervously waved.

Gothi said nothing in reply, but of course, she never said anything to anyone, always remained silent no matter the situation. Somewhere along the way in her long, long life, she had taken to a vow of silence, perhaps as an honor to a lost loved one. That was what his father always told him anyway, but really, even he wasn't too sure.

Either way, the only audible sounds that escaped her were sighs, grunts, gasps and groans; other than that, she communicated by drawing nearly unreadable symbols in the dirt. She had done so now, and Hiccup, being as young as he was, couldn't begin to understand what she was writing, or drawing as it were.

"She says you'v come fur answers…" Sounded a voice behind him. Hiccup yelped and turned around with a jump to see Gobber grinning toothily at him.

"Gobber, will you please stop doing that!" Hiccup whined.

"Aw, quit yur whining; this ol' dog's gotta have a few laughs, doen' he?" Gobber chuckled, hobbling over to stand at the elder's side. "Gods know yur father's not exac'ly a prime source o' entertainment."

Hiccup still pouted in frustration, to which Gobber's jovial expression soon morphed into one of bored annoyance. "I tak it by tha' look yu don wan me here providing ma services. Fine, no skin off ma leg, sure you can find _someone_ around who doesn' wanna lop yur head off to help you ou an translate fur this ol bat!"

Hiccup grimaced and looked to the ground in depression while the woman whacked Gobber on the head with his stick. Obviously her payback at insulting her age, but with Gothi you never knew – she was a woman of many mysteries. Gobber let out a tiny yelp of pain and grumbled while rubbing his nose in irritation. Gothi simply returned to drawing her symbols in the dirt while Gobber looked on, interpreting every line, every squiggle. He was one of the few people eccentric enough himself to be able to read her drawings and inform others of what she was trying to say. She concluded after a few moments and placed her stick to her sides.

"She says yuv come seeking knowledge regarding dragons." Gobber translated.

Hiccup looked up again and shifted his gaze back and forth between the old Vikings who were looking at him with skepticism clear in their eyes. The beads of sweat were rolling down his face already, despite the cold, and he was only too lucky that they had failed to notice. His next few words had to be carefully chosen to avoid saying anything too revealing, and certainly not anything along the lines of 'I found a dragon in the woods and made friends with it.' His lack of skill at lying considered Hiccup figured the best option was to stick to the truth, and just not reveal all the facts.

Bringing his hands behind his back, Hiccup smiled nervously and spoke. "Yeah! I.. I was just, well, curious about dragons. I mean, thinking of the others… in the arena, I was wondering if… if maybe, you might have seen any kinds of… different dragons."

"Ah, come ta get a head star' on dragon trainin', hav ya?" Gobber chuckled, to which Hiccup agreed, bobbing his head up and down so fast his facial features seemed to blur.

Gothi narrowed her eyes to peer closely at the secretive child, smacking her lips in deep thought while the boy nervously retreated under her gaze. His heart must have been beating a thousand times a minute, he was so nervous. She was inspecting him top to bottom, perhaps searching for any sign of dishonesty or waiting for the very moment he would break.

In Hiccup's defense, it was natural for children his age to be curious about dragons, given the standards of their culture and the dragons they had captured in the raids. Soon enough those dragons would be used to train a new generation – his – to become the next warriors to fight the battle and eliminate the dragons just as their predecessors had done. It would be a competition, true to Viking nature, and the winner who did the best would receive the great honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village. No self-respecting Viking warrior to be would ever pass up that prize, especially not the chief son, who at this moment had a lot to prove.

But at this point to the old woman it seemed he had other thoughts and other intentions on his mind, aside from slaying dragons. Disappointing really, because what she saw at the moment she looked at him seemed to be far more interesting, something mysterious in the boy's aura. As much as dragons were held in rancor by her and the rest, she had never been one to ignore the signs of destiny, no matter what they held.

"Uh, Gothi?" Gobber asked, a hint of concern hidden deep in his tone. "Hello? Midgard ta Gothi?"

She shook her head slowly and scribbled in the dirt again, and Gobber seemed to be having a little trouble understanding what the symbols meant. "Hmm… er… she says ya been sleepin with a daggur in yur mouth. Aww, just like I did when I was lit'l." Hiccup took a moment from his anxiousness and raised an eyebrow while Gothi whacked him in the face again and continued her drawing, trying to make it more clear for the smith. "Right, ah… Gothi wants ta know if you'v been havin any strange dreams."

Confusion was etched along Hiccup's features as he wondered what she was getting at, before it came flooding back to him. Gently so, the memories of the strange dream he had experienced the night came in, the hazy glimpses of people and places that made no sense at all. Admittedly the dream had been nearly forgotten, as all dreams were, but this had been so out of the ordinary something in him told him that he shouldn't forget. It was almost as if the dream had been encased in some protective barrier deep within his subconscious protecting it from fading into oblivion.

The things that stood out most prominently were the rider and the dragon, in armor and scale colored black like a moonless sky. The dragon, he assumed was the same breed as Toothless, but as logical as it seemed, his heart was telling him it was indeed Toothless. Hiccup just guessed then that the dragon was an older Toothless, but what of the rider? Well, if the dragon was an older, bigger, stronger Toothless, then could it have been possible that the rider… was an older him?

He shook his head; there was no possible way that could have been him at all. That guy was strong, cool, amazing, and the bravery it must have taken to actually ride a dragon let alone stand on it and swing swords around. He was just a scrawny joke that couldn't even swing a stick imagining it to be a sword without fear of hurting some defenseless person or creature. Not like he'd have the strength to injure it anyway.

Besides, the dream showed plenty of other stuff that was pretty much impossible: demon dragons, ice-spitting dragons, swords lighting on fire. No, dreams were cool and nice and all, but they were only dreams, tall tales the mind created to amuse the dreamers while they slumbered, and this was without a doubt one of the tallest tales imaginable.

"Umm, nope! No weird dreams, here." Hiccup stated nervously. "Just normal dreams… about food… and sailing… and stabbing something over and over."

Gothi and Gobber looked at each other before looking again at him skeptically for a few moments before finally giving in. Gobber hobbled over and gave him a rough rub on the head messing his hair. "Right, well… fur yur dragon question, I suggest ya take a peek a' this." He handed Hiccup a small, thread-bound book, with leather covers and old pages worn from many years of handling. Hiccup held the book in his hands, able to feel its antiquity simply through touch alone.

"What is it?" He asked with awe twinkling in his forest green eyes.

"This here… is tha Book o' Dragons." Gobber stated with a solemn tone to reflect the book's importance. "Written by ma great-great-great gran'dad Bork tha Bold over three-hundred yeers ago, within its pages lies every bit o' knowledge we've gained ovar every dragon tha's evur plagued the skies o' Berk."

Hiccup's eyes widened, contining to stare at the small object in his hand that contained centuries' worth of knowledge. To think that every bit of information about all of the dragons the people of Berk had ever seen since they had first settled upon the Island of Berk was written down here. Surely some record of Toothless' breed might have been recorded here; even Bork the Bold must have caught sight of some dragon as black as night. Bork had several run-ins with all kinds of dragons over the course of his life, all of which being rather bad, leading some to call him 'Bork the Very, Very, Very Unfortunate.' But really, if it wasn't for his fabled bad luck, his descendants wouldn't have this book today, and Hiccup would have nothing to go on in his search for answers.

"Yeah, I tried givin' it to yur cousin Snotlout, but he'd sooner squeeze out 'Is own eyeballs than read, which is a cryin' shame." Gobber ranted on while Hiccup continued to look at the book. He bended down low so only the boy could hear the next part. "It's 'is mouth tha's tha real pain."

Hiccup ignored the old smith's comment and immediately bolted away, giving a single "Yeah, great; thanks, Gobber!" and starting the dangerous climb back down to the plaza. He rushed down the steps at lightning speed, without giving much thought to the poor quality of the steps as he did on the way up. Gobber just looked annoyed as he watched the boy climb down again before smiling and shaking his head, turning back to face the old elder.

"Tha' boy… can ne'er sit still for a second." Gobber said, gesturing with his hook to the boy's assumed position, unable to see him past the wood. "He'll be a heck o' a dragon slayer someday."

Gothi seemingly made no response, no smile, no nod or shake of the head, simply turned back around to gaze at the clouds in the sky, watching their shapes and the speeds of their movements. Such movements could give subtle hints to the whims of fate, or deliver messages from the gods themselves. Her eyes were old and weary, yet they had been trained to see such signs. Gobber hobbled back over to her side, wary of her unnatural behavior.

"Somethin' wrong?" He asked. "Yur not still wonderin' bout the dream thing, are ye? Since when is the goin's-on of a seven-year old's imagination somethin' o prime concern?"

Gothi only sighed. For one of the few times in her life, she didn't know.

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><p>Hiccup had made it back into the cove in record time, not sure how but had managed to remember the path to it step by step. He was lucky that no one had spotted him go into the woods, but he doubted he was nearly as stealthy as would have been required. Odds are that once again, no one bothered to notice that he had gone in. With his father gone, his safety wasn't of any concern to the rest and they let him go on his way. That was fine with him – he could spend hours in these woods with Toothless, anyway.<p>

And speaking of Toothless, as soon as Hiccup had entered the cove, the little dragon shot out from behind a giant rock and tackled him to the ground, drowning him in a barrage of slobbery dragon kisses. Each lick was as quick and as happy as the last, each clearly shouting 'You came back!' and 'I'm so happy to see you!' Hiccup just giggled uncontrollably while the dragon continued his onslaught of joyous licks, his arms flailing everywhere, and his lungs running out of air from both the laughing and Toothless' black paws on his chest.

"Okay, okay! Stop it! I'm happy to see you too, Toothless! Just… no more licking!" Hiccup said in between his bursts of laughter. The dragon complied, sitting upright while Hiccup sat back up himself, catching his breath and letting it fuel his lungs back up with sweet air. Toothless, in the meantime, had taken to nuzzling Hiccup hard on his little chest.

Finally recovered, Hiccup smiled and took out the leather book he had stuffed in his pants underneath his shirt and held it out. "Hey, Toothless, look at this!" He cheered excitedly.

The dragon took a look at the strange object and sniffed it to explore what it could possibly be. It didn't smell of blood, which was good – the smell of blood was always enough to drive dragons into fierce caution. Instead it smelled slightly like his boy, of leather and charcoal coming from within what looked to be yellow leaves. Toothless looked back to Hiccup and cocked his head in confusion, wondering just what was the mysterious thing he held in his hands.

"I was wondering what kind of dragon you are, and Gobber gave me this! It's called the Book of Dragons, and it tells everything on every kind of dragon there is!" Hiccup said.

Obviously that might have been a stretch, the intelligent little dragon thought, for this 'book' to have all knowledge of all dragons. Surely there were many dragons the humans here had yet to encounter, there was no way they had seen every dragon in existence. Toothless didn't really remember much of where he had come from, but he remembered dragon of all kinds in a big place, very far from where they were now. He had never seen the dragons from that place here in any moment of the days he had been stuck here, obviously the humans' knowledge was limited. Very limited, from what he had seen in the daily lives of the people in the village when he hid under bushes to watch. But his boy seemed plenty excited, so why spoil it for him?

"I was thinking maybe it'll tell us what kinda dragon you are!" He said, and Toothless purred in response. Hiccup opened the book to its first page, and looked to Toothless again. "Come on, let's read it together!"

Toothless cooed and laid on the ground right behind him, curling himself around Hiccup's little body. Hiccup chuckled and looked to the first page, noting how it was divided, impressed that Bork would pay so much attention to organization. The dragons had been divided into several different classes: Tidal Class, for underwater-dwelling dragons, Mystery Class, for dragons with unusual abilities and habits, and Fear Class, for more sneaky dragons. There was also Sharp Class, for especially prideful dragons with sharp body parts, Stoker Class for dragons with particular affinities and resistances to fire, and the Boulder Class, for heavily built dragons that could devour earth in their jaws. The one class that looked the most appealing to the young boy was the Strike Class, containing rare breeds of especially lethal and intelligent dragons that few Vikings had ever seen let alone survived against. He decided to look through each of the pages, hoping soon enough he would find a dragon resembling Toothless.

Starting at the beginning, he found a page with a flat looking dragon colored blue with drawings of ocean waves next to it. The dragon had an enormous mouth, bigger than even his father's or any Viking, and was letting loose what looked to be gusts of air from within. Hiccup squinted his eyes as he read, trying to make out the bigger, more difficult words as best he could.

"Thunder…drum. This re…clu…sive dragon inhabits sea caves and dark tide pools. When startled, the Thunderdrum produces a con-a concuss… a concussive sound that can kill a man at close range. Extremely… dangerous, kill on sight." He read, and frowned. The creature sounded utterly terrifying, and the picture of its vicious-looking eyes wasn't exactly helping relieve that fear. He hoped he wouldn't run into a dragon like that any time soon. Nonetheless, he continued reading, startling Toothless who was sniffing at the pages as he turned them.

The next page contained a large horned dragon similar to the Monstrous Nightmare, but with no legs, instead replaced with enormous wings slicing through trees. "Timberjack. This gigantic creature has razor sharp wings that can slice through full-grown trees. Extremely dangerous… kill on sight."

At least the words were easier to read that time, Hiccup though as he turned the page. Before he even knew it, his imagination was kicking into gear and the illustrations were moving on their own in his mind's eye. It was actually more fascinating than scary to watch these majestic beasts move and display their individual talents as he watched them fly and cut and burn and roar. The next page he turned to had another dragon that came from the water, this one with a large belly and a large lower jaw like a pelican, spraying a stream of water, surprisingly, out onto a crude drawing of a Viking boat.

"Scauldron, spays scalding water at its victims." He read slowly. "Extremely dangerous, kill on sight."

He turned the page again with a somewhat annoyed frown. The next page had a red-violet dragon with long tentacles coming out from behind its head, its hypnotic eyes glaring at an unsuspecting Viking while shooting a green liquid at him. "Changewing, even newly hatched dragons can spray acid. Extremely dangerous, kill on sight."

His frown evolved into somewhat of a scowl as he continued to skim through the pages and looking at each dragon drawn and analyzed inside. He wasn't as annoyed at not finding Toothless' breed just yet as he was at the repetitive precautionary measures for each dragon of 'kill on sight' written for each one. Every dragon onward, the Gronkle, the Boneknapper, the Skrill, the Whispering Death, the Snaptrapper, the Monstrous Nightmare, the Deadly Nadder, the Hideous Zippleback, even the Terrible Terror.

Every last one of them was labeled the same thing, and Hiccup swore the more he read the same words again and again, the more he could see the fear placed into the original writer's hand as he inscribed it. They were all 'extremely dangerous,' but Hiccup had wondered if people after Bork had really taken the time to look into each of these dragons and investigate if it were really so. This book was written three-hundred years ago, so something had to have changed or someone would have questioned its legitimacy. If other dragons were like Toothless, Hiccup thought, then obviously something was wrong or Bork was misinformed or mistaken in some way.

His questions of the warnings were immediately stopped as he turned to a page that had next to nothing on it. No illustration of any sort to suggest what this dragon was, nothing except for a title at the top of the page and a sparsely detailed message written below. Hiccup carefully read the title, something in him able to tell that this dragon was different compared to the others.

"Night Fury. Speed unknown, size unknown. The… the un…holy – unholy offspring of lightning and death." Hiccup's eyes widened, such a reputation easily convincing his young mind of how this dragon stood on a level far above that of the other dragons. Behind him, Toothless' ears perked up at the impressive name, daydreaming of how it could strike fear into Viking hearts but at the same time thinking of how silly it was. A dragon's parents being lightning and death, what stories these humans tell. "Never engage this dragon. Your only chance, hide and pray it does not find you."

Hiccup closed the book slowly in fear at the final message; the others' warnings of killing on sight, redundant as they were, still suggested that Vikings had a chance when engaging them. This dragon, the Night Fury, people were suggested to hide in its presence, something that no self-respecting Viking worth his helmet would never do. Such a message told of how pointless a battle with this dragon was, how effortlessly it could kill even the mightiest warriors that dared beyond any sense of logic to challenge it. Hiccup tried to imagine what such a creature would even look like without a clear picture provided by the book, but found even his creative mind coming up short. Exasperated, he slumped back onto Toothless' side.

"Ahh, Toothless. I can't believe it, none of those dragons looked like you at all." He said with a growl etched into his voice. "Some help this thing turned out to be."

Toothless, in the meantime, was nosing the book with his snout, trying to nudge it open again. He whined at Hiccup to grab his attention, which succeeded as the boy watched his efforts with a confused stare. Toothless looked at him with pleading eyes and let a small whine out.

"What is it? Did you find something?" Hiccup asked, unsure of what he could have missed. Nonetheless, he opened the book again and Toothless turned the pages rapidly with his snout, flipping several pages over at once. Hiccup got the hint and started flipping through the pages himself, more gently so Toothless didn't accidentally rip them. Toothless let out a bark when Hiccup had stopped at the page of the Night Fury, turning Hiccup's attention to him once again.

"Is this the page you wanted to see? The Night Fury?" Hiccup asked. Toothless bobbed his head and rumbled in agreement.

Hiccup looked to the page and back to him. "What are you so interested in this dragon for? There's no picture or anything, and it sounds super scary." He said.

Toothless just looked at him, then to the book, and then to Hiccup again. He remembered a cry that sounded just like those words in his past, although he couldn't remember who they were referring to. He was sure, though, that the humans referred to a type of dragon just like him by that name. And the look on Hiccup's face, slowly switching from one of confusion to one of realization, suggested he was beginning to understand this.

"A-are you saying… this dragon… is you? You're a… a Night Fury?" He asked, and to his utter shock, Toothless nodded.

Hiccup couldn't believe it – his friend, Toothless, was in fact the most dangerous, powerful, and mysterious dragon in existence, the unholy offspring of lightning and death, was in fact the little dragon sitting right next to him at this very moment. His friend was a dragon that no man could fight and live to tell of it, a dragon most likely lethal enough to kill a man with a single blast.

He wasn't scared: he had seen how nice Toothless was, how much he liked him, going against his seemingly evil nature. Just the opposite, really, it made him feel invincible, knowing that such a powerful creature cared for him so, was like a brother, a guardian to him from the way he was ready to defend him from a threat yesterday. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was friends with the legendary Night Fury, the greatest of all dragons.

It was such a revelation that all Hiccup could mutter was a single breath of a word.

"Wow…"

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><p><strong>Review, favorite, follow! Keep those compliments coming! Hopefully, with how long this chapter is, you'll still be reading by the time I get to posting the next one!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, we've reached another milestone, 100 favorites. This is so amazing, I'm glad that so many of you like this story. You guys make it all worth it. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it marks a huge milestone in the relationship between Hiccup and Toothless. It was a bit tricky to write and I'm not sure if it came off the way I wanted it to. I'm worried about repeating any thoughts or dialogue said in previous chapters. But I am happy with the way some of it came out, especially the end.**

**Hope you guys enjoy it.**

**All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.**

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><p>Several weeks had passed since Hiccup had first met Toothless, and the duality of the experiences and the emotions in that time were like night and day.<p>

There were the times in the village, moments of pure suffering that seemed to drudge endlessly on without any signs of stopping. Completely on his own, with no one to really talk to, relate to about problems he'd been having, or any sort of hurt feelings. Waking up every morning to find that he'd had a whole house to himself, with no mother or father to enjoy the day with. Even bringing up word could have been considered a sign of weakness in the eyes of others, and they were already placing too many expectations on the would-be chief.

The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint them any further by complaining about how lonely he was and add fuel to the fire. He'd simply carry on with his chores, making a few mistakes due to his somewhat natural clumsiness and getting a few odd glares here and there, and just try and get through those weary morning hours.

Of course, it was never that easy – his horrible troll of a cousin and his little lackeys the twins made sure of that. Every day they would corner Hiccup into some random part of the village where no one could spot them, somewhere new each and every day, and would get to teasing the poor boy. Though, their idea of teasing was not only to insult but to pummel the boy until purple became a near-actual skin color for him. Yanking his hair, kicking him in the stomach once he collapsed on the ground, even pinning him to the wall by strangling his noodle-like neck, any sort of physical torment that crossed their demented little minds.

But Hiccup could never really be sure of what really hurt more between the punches they'd dealt or the mockery they'd spat out. Horrible things along the lines of 'coward,' 'weakling,' 'loser,' and cruel ballads they'd made up of 'Hiccup the Useless' and his many failures. And, the worse he'd felt once he'd stepped out into public and be faced with the mortifying looks of disgust from others, the better Snotlout felt.

Hiccup was rarely one to get mad, but he couldn't help but be sick at how his sadistic cousin smiled every time he was humiliated, reprimanded or ignored for his inability to even raise up a fist in his defense, his incapability to be normal. It caused the boy to develop a sneer of arrogance that was all his own, a smugness that Hiccup swore would remain frozen on his ugly, pig-like face one day.

The only reprieve he really got while in the village was when he did his assigned duty of working with Gobber at the forge. The smith had him do most of the cleaning, of course, but it wasn't like Hiccup complained over chores that were barely any different from what he did at home. The poor child had to throw himself into his work just to forget about what Snotlout and the twins had put him through earlier in the day.

And Astrid and Fishlegs were no help – in those rare moments that either of them were there, they would simply frown and turn away, one in annoyance, the other in timidity. Either way, neither of them could be relied on, and Hiccup had stopped trying to ask them for help long ago, knowing that both were more interested in themselves and how they would be seen for associating with a runt like him.

It wasn't all bad though: there were several days when Hiccup would be pulled in by Gobber to learn new things about smithing and working with metal. He had taught Hiccup what metals to choose when making weapons, how to properly heat and refine the metal into heated coals and how to shape the metal into what he wanted. Their most recent lesson was how to put in details for the sword once the shape was set. Gobber figured Hiccup would enjoy this particular lesson due to the boy's fondness for drawing; Hiccup was a rather talented artist for his age and his room back at his house was littered with pictures that he had drawn. Pictures of the scenery around Berk, the mountains, the forests, the buildings, and the ocean surrounding the island, and even the people as they went about their daily business.

The skill in which his drawings were done suggested that Hiccup had a keen eye for detail, which showed when Hiccup had successfully crafted his first weapon – a dagger with Norse runes imprinted on the blade. Gobber was greatly satisfied at how quickly Hiccup had come to learn the trade, and although he still had a long way to go, he remarked at how well of a job he did his first time around. It was in those moments that Hiccup could truly feel proud of himself, proud but not happy.

His real happiness came whenever he could sneak away into the woods and visit his friend Toothless, the Night Fury. His feet would twitch in impatience for the moment no one was watching and head off into the forest and head for the cove where Toothless was waiting. It really wasn't as difficult as it seemed since no one seemed to even want to build up the effort to pay attention to him anymore. With his father gone, no one had any sort of reason to care about him, in fact some seemed happy that he was out of their hair for the whole day.

It didn't matter; deep in that forest was someone who wanted to see him and would count the seconds until he did, someone who preferred his company over others of his own kind, someone who showed something akin to love for him alone and didn't need a reason to do so. So what if this person wasn't necessarily human; anyone who'd look down on his friendship with Toothless simply for that should just keep to themselves.

Each visit to that little cove that became their normal meeting spot always starting out the same: Hiccup searching around for Toothless, who was remarkably good at hiding, and the dragon pouncing out, showering him with happy, excited licks and nuzzles. They would play whatever games they could think of, from hide-and-seek to tag, to hopscotch across the rocks sticking out on the lake. They would play pretend games of sailing out on the seas, fighting off pirates, traversing across dangerous mountains; Toothless was really good at playing pretend, being so much smarter than other dragons and understanding every word Hiccup said and played along with them. There were even days when they go to actually exploring the island, going deeper into the woods and finding nests for squirrels, birds and foxes and seeing all the babies sleeping inside, or climbing trees and hopping across the branches, Toothless helping the boy keep his balance. They would find caves and search for secret passages that they found leading to all manner of hidden spots along the island, one of which the base of the mountain that served as a landmark for Berk. Every day was an adventure for the two, and each served to bring them closer together.

He'd also come to learn more about dragons in general through Toothless, their little moments providing all sorts of knowledge the Book of Dragons had no record on. To its defense though, he was probably the only one who had ever gotten this close to a dragon without ending up a smoldering corpse. He learned of how dragons loved to be scratched and relieved of the itchiness their scales constantly inflicted when Toothless would melt into his angelic hands when he'd scratch him. Hiccup also found out about the sensitive spot Toothless had underneath his jaw the hard way when the dragon suddenly collapsed and fell asleep for a few moments only to wake up somewhat confused minutes later.

Then of course was the field of grass that Toothless and other dragons like Terrible Terrors loved to roll around in, something about the soft feel and the spicy-sweet smell intoxicating them into a sense of pure ecstasy. Hiccup called it dragon nip because of the similar effect that cats experienced when exposed to catnip, as he'd read in one of the books found in Gothi's hut. It would take hours to pull Toothless away from that area, his dazed mind and dizzy kisses being somewhat of a problem, but he'd snapped out of it once they were far enough away.

As much as Toothless enjoyed his boy's company before, now he was practically a second shadow for Hiccup, following him everywhere. In fact several days had passed when Toothless had tried to follow Hiccup back into the village, into his house. Even against his better judgment, having seen the older Vikings, shouting angrily with their blades waving in the air, spilling the blood of dragons on the ground and onto their red, hairy faces. Perhaps he had seen how lonely Hiccup was, with no one to really talk to and being made to live in a house all by himself.

As tempting as it was to have Toothless with him in the house as company, it would surely lead to disaster. With an entire population of battle-hungry, blood-thirsty Vikings just waiting to sink their blades into some defenseless dragon's neck, bringing Toothless in was practically signing a death warrant for his friend. Not to mention surefire exile for himself, age being regardless in the face of treason. And knowing that he was helping to create those blades and weapons filled him with guilt, imagining how much blood would indirectly be placed on his hands.

Every day was the same, like a scheduled process – wake up, go to work in the village and be bullied and miserable, go into the forest with Toothless and play, go back, be miserable again, go to bed. Be alone, be with Gobber, be with Toothless. It was a full spectrum of settings that went back and forth again and again like the ocean tides.

But then came the day that things really had started to change: the one day that Hiccup would never forget for as long as he lived.

It started out just like any other day, with Hiccup having just finished his duties over at the forge and having gone to the Great Hall to get lunch for himself. Not like he could really call it lunch, or even food at that, just a slop mix of chicken, vegetables, fish, and a mug of water haphazardly placed on the plate, tossed and jumbled.

No one on Berk could really say that they had expert culinary skills, even the wives and the bread-making Vikings that worked and served food on the hour over at the hall – any food that people ate on the island couldn't exactly be rated very highly in terms of taste or appearance. But really, appearance was the best part about it, compared to how tough and flavorless the food really was – to Hiccup it was practically like eating wood. His stomach grumbled and protested over what had been just placed into it as he walked out of the Great Hall and got ready to head into the forest for his normal playdate with Toothless.

While walking out, he took one last look into the Hall and saw all the other children, sitting together, talking and laughing while having their lunch. More than likely whatever they were laughing about was something said to his expense, but still, they all looked rather happy. Well, some of them did; Snotlout and the twins were guffawing and cackling so loud bits of the food they had jammed into their mouths was spraying out all over the table. Snotlout was flexing his already developing muscles in an attempt to show off, while Ruffnut and Tuffnut were quickly getting into a bit of roughhousing.

Fishlegs was chuckling, albeit nervously, but it had grown stronger once Tuffnut had slapped him on the back. As always, it looked as though he was being forced to enjoy himself with them, but he had made the choice long ago to hang out with them to avoid the torment he himself was receiving, so whatever pity Hiccup might have felt was naturally diminished somewhat.

And then there was Astrid, smiling to herself, probably ignoring comments from the others and thinking about what was in store for her. Ever since she had renounced their friendship, her parents had been putting her through heavy duty training in preparation for dragon training once she had come of age. Already she had shown exemplary results, showing acrobatic and axe-wielding prowess well beyond her age, about as much as the progress he himself had been showing at the forge. The only difference between them being that her efforts were being proudly acknowledged by a whole village, while any respect he was shown was begrudged for just barely making a dagger the right way. They'd cheer out her name, the great Hofferson lass, a true Viking prodigy, and she was slowly taking it all to heart.

Together, the five of them looked so natural – the bully, his cohorts, the timid tagalong, and the pretty girl/former friend. He had to think since the moment he sat down at an adjacent table to eat alone how he would fit in over there, but straining himself to visualize his tiny frame sitting amongst them yielded no result. A mental block of some kind would hide even a glimpse of him from view while a voice inside would only tell him that his presence would be an anomaly amongst them, a piece of the puzzle or a peg in the construction that just wouldn't fit with the others.

He didn't really need anyone or anything to tell him that, though – he knew just by looking at them and automatically recalling those hard moments that he wouldn't be accepted. So he simply turned away and headed for the forest, the others never even noticing he was there.

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><p>The forest path was illuminated by the afternoon path, filtering in through the trees and lighting Hiccup's way over to the cove. He could swear the path to Toothless was somehow illuminated, the ground glowing and sparkling like if it was crafted of gold. The odd flowers that grew here and there along the sides of the path glowed as well with candle flames that reflected the colors of their petals. Hiccup smiled as well, never ceasing to be excited for a day of playing with his beloved dragon. With each step he took, Hiccup swore he could hear Toothless' excited barks and chirps growing closer and closer.<p>

His pace began to quicken, normal speed to powerwalking, then into jogging, and then into a full-blown run. He panted with excitement, smiling as bright as he possibly could, just keeping his eyes focused on the single destination lying ahead. His eyes twinkled, sparkling with the need to see Toothless more and more with each passing step. To escape the mundane sadness of his life in Berk at least for a few moments, letting all that negativity fade away in play with the close friend he had come to know in such a short time.

He was so fixated on his destination that he had completely failed to notice the sudden obstacle that presented itself. A small leg stuck out from behind a tree and tripped him up as he ran, his left foot hooking on the leg causing him to collapse. He felt his chin and elbows get skinned the second he collapsed on the hard dirt and rocks beneath him.

Hiccup inwardly groaned at the lack of grass there could have been to cushion his fall as he got on his knees. He continued to look down while starting to massage the damaged areas of his little body, feeling the little drops of blood that started to seep through.

"Aww, better be careful where you're going, Useless," sounded a smug-sounding voice from behind him. Hiccup cringed at the familiarity of both the voice and the tone, and slowly turned around.

There, standing in the shadows yet with his dark smirk still glowing menacingly, was Snotlout, crossing his large arms and looking down on his victim. Standing to each of his sides were the twins Ruffnut and Tuffnut, both with disturbing, toothy smiles on each of their faces that could be summarized as nothing short of demented. All three of them were covered in blotches and stains that smelled of the food they served at the Great Hall. Obviously some big food fight broke out there and all three of them had been on the receiving end of some stray platter flung out of the blue. Hiccup could catch the scents of the food mixed together with their already foul body odors and had to heavily resist the urge to hold his nose. No reason to try and aggravate them even more.

Stink aside, Hiccup could not help but be unpleasantly surprised at the sight of his bullies standing a few feet away. He could have sworn they were so focused on eating they would not have noticed him leave. They must have followed him all the way here, run ahead, and laid in wait so they could ambush him. A bit of a change from the normal schedule to be bullied again after they had already gotten through with him earlier today, and Hiccup did not like the sudden deviation.

"Snotlout… w-what are you doing here?" He gulped nervously.

Snotlout's smirk just grew wider and he huffed to himself. "You sound like you're not happy to see us. We just came to have some fun with you, our favorite little _runt_…"

"I thought we came out here 'cause your mom was gonna give us all baths." Tuffnut suddenly chimed in. Snotlout's smirk quickly vanished in place of an exasperated frown.

"Well some of us do need it." Ruffnut added in a smug manner of her own.

"Yeah… hey! Why're you looking at me!?" Tuffnut noticed that Ruffnut was indeed glancing at him when she spoke.

"Just noting where the sweet, sweet smell of boar guts and chicken is coming from…"

"Like you're any better! That fish oil doesn't exactly smell like roses, you know!" Tuffnut argued, noting the fish oil Ruffnut used to wash her hair every day.

"'Scuse me if this look doesn't just happen!" Ruffnut shouted.

"Could've fooled me." Tuffnut taunted, reaching out and shoving his sister aside. "You get out of bed every morning looking like that!"

"That's cause I wash my hair before bed!" Ruffnut exclaimed, shoving Tuffnut aside just as he did to her. "Can I help it if I enjoy the feel of greasy hair on my pillow?"

"Just go get a yak to drool on you, same result. And it fits 'cause you look like a yak to boot!"

And off they went, colliding into each other and rolling over and over on the ground. They punched each other, bit each other, pulled each other's hair and called each other names. These arguments and the high brutality that often came up were pretty common among the twins, so common that no one ever really bothered to stop them. Not even Snotlout, who just ignored their ongoing argument and walked over to Hiccup, towering over the scared boy.

The thuggish child just placed his arms behind his back and returned to the arrogant smile he had on earlier, while Hiccup had sat up and started backing away while Snotlout took small baby steps closer. He had taken notice of the scared look in Hiccup's eyes, the feeling of being like a mouse cornered by a dragon, and was eager to drag the torment on for as long as he could.

"So this is where you've been running off to…" He shook his head in mock disappointment and clicking his tongue. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Hiccup, Hiccup, Hiccup… you know well and good you aren't allowed to be out here in the woods."

Hiccup continued to back away, his eyes caught on Snotlout and gulping down while fear continued to build up in his stomach and throat every second. The small pebbles that pressed into his palm and caused mild pain or the itchiness of the grass rubbing on any bits of skin his clothes did not cover were ignored as he moved. Every time Snotlout had him surrounded, trapped with no means of escape, every one of his senses seized up and he could not do or say anything while his despicable cousin just went merrily along hurting him. This time was no different.

"Who knows what the others might say… and your dad, what will he think when he finds out you've been playing here again…" He mocked in a clearly faked caring tone. He never said it outright, but as dumb as he was, he was good at making questions or statements like those sound like threats. And Hiccup, smart as he was, caught on almost instantly.

The boy let out a sharp gasp. "Please… please don't tell him. You can't tell anybody I was out here."

Suddenly Snotlout laughed out loud, cackling with such force and such volume he had to hold onto his chest and knee for support to keep himself from falling over. "Oh come on!" He shouted in between laughs. "You really think anyone'll care if I tell them? Do you have any idea how relieved people are that they don't have to deal with you for all the time you're gone?"

Hiccup said nothing, only continued to back up in the face of Snotlout, taking his words to heart as he found himself doing with most insults these days. He had seen it on the faces of the men that came with his father, the people in the village. They never said or showed it fully, but Hiccup could see every time he came back out of the forest after playing with Toothless that something about them seemed different. Lines of stress and fatigue drawn around their faces were considerably less deep than they usually were. And every time he had entered the sights of some random person, those lines came back deeper than ever.

He had something to do with those lines, with their fatigue, just adding onto it somehow, without even doing anything. Their imaginations would conjure up all the ways he could get into trouble, the magnitude of the problems he might cause with every decision made or action performed, and how much extra time would have to be invested into cleaning it up.

"You're such a pest, I'm still wondering why your dad hasn't just sent you to live out here and be done with it. I mean, come on, he's already plenty sick of you." Snotlout continued to taunt.

At that point, Hiccup's fingers clenched into the grass, his fear giving way to a small flicker of anger that managed to seep through. Snotlout tried to say the same thing the other day, and it angered him then just as it did now. Though he had overheard his father spout pretty convincing evidence to support his cousin's claim the other day, his fearful rage had wiped the memory from his mind. He gritted his teeth and tried to look as fierce as he could. "Y-You're wrong! My dad loves me! He does!"

"Yeah, then how come he's always going off on raids and leaving you alone?" Snotlout asked.

At that Hiccup didn't answer, well aware of the increased frequency of his father's hunts to find the dragon's nest as of late. He could have said it was because of his father's fierce hatred of dragons that ran deeper than most others because of the way he lost his wife to them. He could have said it was his duty as chief to rid Berk of the dragons for good, but every answer he came up with seemed to raise more questions. How would killing dragons help him get over the pain? He had other duties as chief such as helping other families rebuild and keeping track of the food, why not take care of those? Every path in his mind that a supposed reason seemed to create only ran back the other direction and looped around. It left his mind in a tangled mess that kept him from answering or speaking once again, letting his three tormentors speak for him once again.

"He doesn't want to see you…" Tuffnut said lying on the ground.

"He doesn't want to look at you…" Ruffnut added.

"He doesn't even want to think about you! He's willing to sail off and risk his life fighting dragons, just so he can get away from you!" He stuck his face a few inches away from Hiccup's, letting his stinky breath clog up the smaller boy's nostrils. "If only the rest of us could be so lucky…"

By now, Hiccup had backed up into a tree, his back pressed hard yet he still continued to move back and drive himself in hoping he could just vanish into it. The situation seemed oddly familiar as Snotlout just moved in closer while keeping his hands behind his back, faking that polite demeanor he wore. "But hey, I'm a pretty understanding guy, and I can see that this upsets you. So as your loving cousin, I'll keep your secret, I won't tell anyone about how you've been ignoring your dad and coming here every day."

Hiccup gulped again, not believing a word he said. His words seemed sweet, but the mocking tone easily revealed how hollow the promise was. Yet still, he found himself asking. "Really?"

"On one condition…" Snotlout said.

Hiccup just looked up again. "W-What's that?"

"You gotta do all our chores, mine and the twins. You'll give me all your food, and your birthday and Snoggletog presents, and give me back rubs whenever I want for the next year." Snotlout said, and he quickly grabbed Hiccup by the chin. "Oh, and you'll come behind the Great Hall three times a day for a good beating. You wouldn't believe how relaxed I get after I've pounded the crud out of you. Say no to anything and, well, I wouldn't wanna be in your shoes once Uncle Stoick finds out, and he _always_ finds stuff out. Do we have a deal, _Useless?_"

Hiccup couldn't agree to this deal, it was a lose-lose situation no matter how he looked at it. He was fine with giving up his presents, he hardly ever got anything anyway. And he wasn't much of a big eater, either, which contributed to his smaller-than-average size. But going behind the hall three times a day would intrude on his time with Toothless, and going there just to get used as a punching bag by Snotlout didn't sound like a particularly enjoyable pastime. But it was this or let Snotlout tell his father once he got back and risk severe punishment at the hands of his father. He was trapped and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I'm waiting…" Snotlout teased.

The small boy just let the beads of sweat roll down his face, his nerves out of control just waiting for any brutality that Snotlout might employ to enforce his one-sided bargain. Behind his cousin, Hiccup could see the twins snickering, his terrified look a source of amusement for them. If he wasn't so scared, Hiccup would have been sick to their stomach of their cruelty.

He was about to answer; what he was going to answer was a mystery, though, when a building shriek filled the air. It was high-pitched, and raising in pitch each and every second. At that moment, a cobalt charge of fire hit the ground right in between Snotlout and the twins, exploding at the moment of impact. The children all screamed as a shockwave emerged from the spot the fireball landed, leaving behind a burnt crater in the ground, lingering flames still burning inside.

"W-W-What… was that…?" Ruffnut asked in a trembling voice.

"I-I don't know. But it was scary and awesome at the same time…" Tuffnut tried to sound like his usual self, but he was erring more on the side of scared than impressed at that moment.

Snotlout's back had been facing Hiccup, still staring wide-eyed in horror at the sight of where the fireball had struck. He was hyperventilating, his tiny heart ready to burst right out of his chest, feeling like backing up into the tree as he had forced Hiccup to do for cover. He already had an inkling of what had happened, there was only one kind of creature that could do what they had just seen. He didn't know what kind, not having the experience his father and the other men did, but he wasn't willing to take any chances.

"You-You think it might've been…"

Another fireball was launched, hitting the exact same spot the first one did, the shockwave expanding and dissipating to reveal the crater had grown even larger. Small pieces of debris flew out and hit them in the face, some lit on fire, leaving both bruises and small burns on their faces. The three bullies jumped and yelped in fear before launching into full-blown screams of panic.

"A DRAGON!"

As tough as the three of them thought they were, they were in no way, shape, or form ready to handle any kind of dragon. And they wouldn't be until they underwent Dragon Training a few years ahead. For now, all they could do was scream and yell in fear and run away, their legs pedaling them further and further away with all the speed they could muster. Fireballs continued to launch right behind them, Hiccup noticed, still sitting there against the tree watching them run. Each fireball landed very close to their legs, dangerously close to blasting their legs right off.

"We-we gotta get outta here!" Snotlout shouted.

"What about Hiccup?" Ruffnut cried.

"Forget about him, no one wants him around, anyway!" Snotlout cried off into the distance. It was the last thing Hiccup could hear him say before they were completely gone from view.

Hiccup just continued to watch until the very last moment when Snotlout and the twins were too far away to be seen. Hopefully, whatever just happened would be enough to make him forget about his coming into the forest and his deal. At that point, he tried to get up, only to be snatched up by something right as he got to his feet. One second he was on the ground, the next he found himself zooming through the air.

Hiccup screamed in panic himself, grabbing onto whatever had grabbed him as he was carried several feet off the ground. He watch the trees pass by at such a quick speed, seeing groups of ten pass by every few seconds. The sticks, bushes, and rocks that he flew over turned into blurs of green, gray, and brown that blended into each other, and also seemed so small that he could barely see them.

He had to admit, seeing it all from so high up, about as high as when he climbed the trees surrounding the village, was… enjoyable in a way. Before he even knew it, the panic began to die down, and the screaming soon stopped; Hiccup just watched everything go past him, taking in every moment of his new vantage point.

It was then that the path gave way and Hiccup could see the cove come into view. It was amazing, seeing it all from so high up, the cove having no trees strong enough to support him so he could see it from high up. He could see everything, the cliffs, the pond, the rocks, and the sun as it shone down. All those factors put together, made it look so peaceful, so beautiful. Hiccup didn't imagine how beautiful this place was, never taking the full amount of its serenity in, at least not until he saw it in this way.

The cove came closer and closer, and Hiccup realized that whatever had taken him was setting him down. With his senses recovered, Hiccup could now hear strong wing beats coming from right above him, and when he grabbed on, he could swear he felt something scaly. The memory of the day this had happened before finally came back to him: he had to admit, the quick sequence of events hadn't given him much time to remember. He actually felt silly for not recalling such an experience sooner. At the same time, though, he realized that he hadn't really taken the time to enjoy the view then; surely he could have put aside the shock then to take in the marvelous sight being presented to him. He finally looked up, and what he saw made him smile with excitement.

It was Toothless; he was the one who took Hiccup, just like the last time. The black dragon looked down at him and gave a cheerful gummy smile, calming whatever remained of Hiccup's panic.

They went lower and lower until finally Hiccup's feet managed to touch the ground. Toothless then released Hiccup's shoulders from his grip and landed right next to him, walking up to Hiccup and snuggling with him on the cheek. Hiccup giggled and backed away to grab the sides of Toothless's head.

"Toothless! You were the one who chased off Snotlout?" He asked. He felt he should have scolded Toothless for doing so, but he was too relieved to care.

Toothless just answered with a small growl. He had indeed seen how the other boy was making Hiccup scared, the small dragon smelling the fear coming off of his boy in droves. He wouldn't let anyone scare Hiccup or make him sad like that – it made him furious just thinking about it. He did the first thing he could think of and fired at Snotlout and the twins to scare them off, and it worked; the cowards ran off with their tails between their legs. Relieved that his boy was now safe, Toothless gave him a gentle nudge to the chest and a happy purr.

"And you were the one who picked me up. And we…" And it was then the reality of what had just occurred finally hit Hiccup in full. Toothless picking him up, the high viewpoint, the speed at which they travelled. He suddenly found himself staring at Toothless's wings with his mouth hung open.

They were _flying_.

Toothless rumbled and crooned to grab Hiccup's attention, the boy shaking his head to break out of his stupor. He caught sight of how Hiccup was staring at his wings, turning his view from them to the boy, to them, and then to him again, and his eyes shone with excitement. He hopped in place and wagged his tail with such fervor, letting his tongue droop out; everything about the dragon in that moment seemed to scream excitement. He'd been waiting, hoping he could do this with Hiccup for some time, and was glad to see that his boy seemed to enjoy it so.

He bounced up to Hiccup and barked with more energy than even other dragons seemed to possess, then moved back to his previous spot. He bowed down and pulled his wings back, looking at him expectantly.

Hiccup just watched as the dragon went from bouncing around like an out-of control ball to bowing down before him, just looking at him. It seemed as if Toothless was waiting for him to do something, but what?

A moment's pause of staring at the dragon, who then gestured to his back with a chirp, and it became clear. Clear from stories he'd heard of distant lands where men rode horses and crossed great distances, miles and miles between towns and kingdoms, as a result.

"You-You want me to…" He pointed to himself and then to him, and Toothless nodded repeatedly.

As exciting as it seemed, Hiccup had to back away at the unheard of chance that presented itself to him. Apparently, Toothless wanted him to climb onto his back and ride him! He wanted to take them both flying, properly flying; Hiccup could look down and see the world from the eye of a bird, like the ones he heard tweeting and flapping around him.

But humans' lack of wings were a clear sign that they were not meant to fly, the sky was meant to be an entire world away, serve as some wide stretch of blue they could only look at. It was meant to be like his clothes that were on that top shelf, something completely unreachable unless one had the means to do so. And to ride on a dragon, it was simply unthinkable; dragons were not docile pets to be ridden around like the horses from the tales.

"Uh…uh…uh..." was all he could bring himself to mutter.

But Toothless obviously was not taking no for an answer, quickly growing dissatisfied at Hiccup's hesitance. Like a flash, he zoomed behind Hiccup and stuck his head in between his legs, lifting his head up and letting Hiccup roll down to the spot just before his shoulder blades. Toothless crouched down and took off into the sky, unleashing a blast of wind that blew apart the twigs and dust from their takeoff point.

Hiccup grabbed onto Toothless's neck and clenched his eyes as tightly as he could, pressing himself against Toothless as much as he could as he did with the tree. He didn't know it, but his close proximity to Toothless allowed the dragon to take off even faster, reducing the drag that might have been caused by him sitting upright or even crouched. Hiccup could feel the wind firing at him with great intensity, blowing his hair away and nearly ripping him off Toothless as they went higher and higher. It was comparable to how strong the winds were during the many blizzards that hit Berk in their later winter years, gusts that could break houses apart in minutes.

Yet it was also so fresh, so invigorating, filling his chest and infusing him with feelings of confidence unlike anything he had ever felt before. Even the coldness of the air didn't seem to bother him anymore, all he could feel was the wind's might adding onto a power inside him.

Toothless then stopped and evened out, the wind returning to a gentle breeze. Hiccup lifted himself off the dragon's neck and opened his eyes. And he was astounded at what he saw.

All around him were pure white clouds, so fluffy they seemed like cotton or like pillows, shining to reflect the brightness of the sun. Hiccup looked in every direction and saw more and more clouds, Toothless taking him through an entire maze of them, with towers that reach up and spiraled around, swinging and dodging past scores of stray wisps of them. He spun around a large gathering of clouds, Hiccup reaching out and running his hand through them, feeling the water on his skin and taking it out once the freezing droplets got to him.

Toothless then flew up again and right into a particularly large cloud, the two of them surrounded by white. It astounded Hiccup to see that clouds were empty and wet inside, not being as fluffy as he imagined they would have been when he was younger. Pockets of sunshine seeped through, making Hiccup imagine it to be like a tunnel of rock inside of a cave, with holes leading to the outside like windows. No, it was beyond anything he could have imagined.

They exited the cloud and Hiccup's eyes widened at the site of the entire forest sprawled out beneath them, far above the tops of the trees that he once believed reached up to touch the very clouds he had just flown through. Just one massive score of green composed on many fluctuating majestic heights of pine trees that had grown upon the lands for years that went out for miles on end, save for the edges of the island and the cliffs overlooking the sea. Shifting down slightly, Toothless's wings blew away pine needles that tickled his skin, while the tips of the trees did the same for the Night Fury's belly. Their actions alerted several birds who flew alongside them for a few seconds until turning away while the duo ascended again.

Toothless navigated them towards the mountain, and Hiccup could see the snowy ridges and numerous paths and crevices that made up its shape. All the lines and cracks he saw carved into the shape put his own drawings of the massive formations that he only saw at a distance to shame. They swung around its entire radius, passing through the clouds that surrounded it due to its high altitude, observing the light and the shadow play off of the rock's jaggedness and soon ascended further.

The continuously decreasing temperatures became evident as Hiccup saw his own breath fly past him in a puff of white vanishing instantly. It was the only sign, really, as he felt adrenaline surging throughout him, his blood warming his body while rushing through with all the speed Toothless had been using. His lungs tightened and his breaths came out shorter the higher they rose, the peak of the great mountain within sight as they broke through the thin clouds obscuring it from the view of those who remained on the land. He wondered as they rose up in altitude, just how high some of the men were able to reach, for those that had dared to climb the mountain on their own. How wonderfully ironic it was, that he, a child, had surpassed them all.

They entered into a dark tunnel that opened in one side of the mountain, passing through and dodging all the stalactites and stalagmites that extended from the ceiling and floor. Hiccup saw how the thin ice in the cave that covered the rock sparkled and glimmered like crystals in conjunction with the sun's rays reaching in from the opening. He could hear how the dropping water from the melting ice above fell into the puddles below sounded off like a symphony, the soft sounds echoing everywhere, resounding through the rocky space.

In tandem with the light, it was almost as if Hiccup could see the waves of light rippling through the cavern walls like on the surface of the pond in the cove, bright as could be as they extended before disappearing without a trace. They charged through to the other side, passing over the very tip of the mountain, brushing the snow off of the top and causing a small avalanche that reached a little ways down the slope. By now, the air inside him was nearly gone and he was left breathless and gasping for more to replenish him, and he felt his blood rushing to his face tinting his cheeks in a bright shade of pinkish red, but Hiccup didn't care one bit. His heart had already stopped from everything he had just experienced so far.

Hiccup took it all in, the gentle breeze that blew across his face, the colors of the sky and the sights, oh the sights. To look at the world from this high up, a way that no one ever had or could ever do, and experience it all anew. It felt as though he was in another world entirely, a world unbound by rules or disappointment, where all that nature had restricted him with no longer applied. Here he felt… reborn, like a new person, he felt… free.

He smiled as Toothless took him over to the village, Hiccup taking comfort in the fact that no one would be able to see them, being so high up. He could see all the buildings, all the people – on the ground they could boast about their size all they wanted, but from here they looked like ants. Hiccup could see all the formations of the island, how the houses and buildings were all pocketed into them and looked like dots of wood on the surface, adapted to the island geography with its higher and lower levels. He could see the pathways to the docks winding and turning about, the individual planks blending in to make them look like solid pathways. He could even see his own house sticking out at the top of the hill, taking into account how much larger it was compared to all the other houses and how it stood proudly overlooking the others.

He looked ahead then and saw the ocean, stretching out far beyond his view, how it shone with the fading rays of light, how it shifted and turned with the wind. The salty air catching his nostrils, even from their position; Hiccup wondered if this was the smell sailors smelt. The air of journeys that they breathed in with every minute spent on the water, of the open sea filled with promise. A realm of infinity, the edge where the water poured down into the abyss of nothingness all of a sudden a silly fib conceived by a morbid or limited imagination.

It was all so much to take in, all so beyond belief, that he just collapsed onto Toothless. His thoughts flooded with what lied out there, just waiting to be seen. What other sights he could be greeted with, just what the world had in store for the adventurous spirit within him. No longer could he be restricted to Berk, this cold rock sitting in the middle of the sea being all he would ever know. In lands unknown to him or anyone here, he could see his pretend adventures becoming real with startling clarity, all happening day after day – from the back of his dragon, anything seemed possible now.

"Toothless… this is... just amazing. I love it; I never want to come down again." He gave his dragon a pat on the head, and the Night Fury purred in delight. "Thanks… bud."

Toothless cooed and continued to fly off, feeling a renewed energy from within all from the happiness his boy now seemed to feel. He felt that same energy Hiccup felt from being so high up – together, they could do anything, go anywhere, conquer any challenge. That feeling continued to flow as they flew off into the sun, staying up there in the sky for several more hours, neither able to remember just when they finally came down.

All either of them could remember from that day was touching the sky and feeling free.

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><p><strong>I hope the flight sequence came off as realistic as it could be – I just want to take in everything that happens, really pull the reader into it. I want my writing to convey that idea of realism into it, make it seem like a movie somewhat. I got some of the inspiration from 'Soarin', the 3D flying ride at Disneyworld. If you're there, I really recommend you check it out.<strong>

**As always, review, favorite, follow!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, new chapter up and ready to go. I would've posted sooner but I went out today to watch Big Hero 6 - fun film, really.**

**Funny that I've got more demand for my other story, though, when this has plenty more followers and favorites. Oh, well, this is obviously the more popular of the two, so I'm more than willing to roll with that.**

**For those that have been saying I've been making the Berkians a little too harsh on Hiccup, looking back, yes I am inclined to agree with you. But hey, these are brutal people that are a bit too intolerant when it comes to difference like Hiccup's. I like to think of it as I'm not sugarcoating it like the film did. And for those who are feeling a bit bored, don't worry, things are finally going to start picking up in the next couple of chapters. Just hang tight – I like to give proper time to develop things out, it's pretty much why my chapters are so long.**

**Anyway, again, new chapter. Brace yourself, cause it's gonna get a little bit Kingdom Hearts-y. **

**All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.**

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><p>It was yet another uneventful day on Berk, the same weather as always with clouds covering nearly every inch of the sky. Despite the large overcast, Hiccup was in much lighter spirits than ever before, with a spring in his step so large it seemed as though he may well be carried off the ground. It had been three days since his flight with Toothless around the whole island, and his every waking thought was consumed by the view he had been given from the back of his dragon. He'd spend hours just daydreaming while lying around on the grass of soaring through the sky, diving through clouds and zipping across the ocean's surface.<p>

Gobber had noticed his behavior, repeatedly having to tell him to focus and get back to work once he'd caught him slacking off. The boy would just look up through the roof of the forge as he would before coming in, his sight almost penetrating through the wood roof to the sky. He was so distracted he would hardly notice when the metal of the daggers he worked upon were made so soft by the heat they melted off the hilt. Or when he swept aimlessly and filled the air of the forge with dust, and they would have to fan it out and send the villagers into coughing frenzies. Hiccup's lack of concentration had caused so many problems Gobber was forced to make Hiccup take a few days off of work until he got his act together.

Though the timing couldn't have been worse, as the day after the men had spotted the ships on the ocean. Stoick and the men that had gone off in search of the nest were returning now, and based on the significant subtraction of boats from the fleet's original number, it had not gone well. It took a great deal of restraint for the Berkians not to groan collectively when the ships finally docked upon the shores crammed at every inch with Viking warriors. Every piece of wood that made up the hull of the ships was burned black while a great majority were broken and splintered. The shields on the rim of the boat, at least those that had not fallen off, had huge chunks blown off and were just as burned as the boats. The sails had been torn to ribbons, the shredded lines indicative of how dragon claws had ripped through like knives tore through paper. And that was the couple of ships that still had masts; some had been ripped right off of the deck, the unlucky few tied with rope to be pulled by the ships that could still catch the wind. They stopped at the walkways, the tired, weary, injured men just itching to get off and go back to bed to forget the carnage they had experienced in the mists.

The bridges were laid out allowing the men to climb back up with help from those who had gathered, Gobber included. One of the first off the boat was Stoick, and surprise, surprise, he had a scowl locked on his face deep enough that even an ogre's face seemed much more pleasant. Gobber was all too used to that look, seeing it every month of every year since his longtime friend had ascended to chiefdom.

"So, how'd it go?" He asked in a sarcastically cheerful tone in hopes of lightening the other man's spirits after hefting him up onto the docks.

Honestly, he wasn't sure why he bothered, the heated, exasperated glare sent from the fiery-maned leader of Berk spoke of it all. It told of the entire story, how dragons suddenly emerged from the mists and rained their fire down upon the ship, burning both wood and skin. Men would scream in pain while flames melted their flesh and limbs or even entire bodies would be left completely incinerated. They would fall in the water and be left defenseless, to either drown or be picked up and carried to the nest as many were during the attacks on the island, including the chief's wife, never to be seen again. With little to no visibility and restricted movement against foes that hid like cowards and had free reign in the air there was no debating which side came out victorious.

Once again the hunt had failed, Berk's fighting force had been crippled and the nest's location remained a mystery. There was no winning that one-sided battle against the blasted dragon guard-hounds always there, waiting for them to stubbornly come again to try their luck in battle once more. No doubt the chief was boiling in anger over the casualties suffered this time around, the lives already lost and those soon to be lost to those horrid beasts that remained free to darken the skies a little longer.

"Right, I got it. Show you the way ta go home, yur tired an' ya want ta go t' bed." Gobber sung while picking up the basket that Stoick carried to relieve him slightly.

Stoick barely paid any attention and just continued to walk back up the walkways towards the village. He rudely bumped past several Vikings on his way up, not offering any sort of apology or even recognition towards them, but none of them really minded. It was one of the few times they ever showed sensitivity, to a man who obviously deserved it fighting for his life protecting his people and had nothing to show for it. They just focused on helping the other men in the boats, bringing them to the healers as quickly as they could while bringing in the boats for much needed repair.

"Gather the men, tell 'em ta come to the Great Hall," mumbled Stoick after a period of silence between them. "I need ta make an announcement."

"Of course, yur usual 'the dragons kicked our butts so let's figure out how ta get 'em back' speech." Gobber joked. "Sure ya got tha' one memorized by now."

"Gobber, will ya knock off the snips already!?" Stoick turned and shouted, catching the attention of more than a few of his burly men. He fixed Gobber with a stony glare that would have made any other man shrink down to the size of a speck of dust, but the smith's personal connection to his chief provided some form of resistance. "Those filthy devils were toyin' with us out there! They picked our boats off one by one!" He gestured out to the sea in the direction of Helheim's Gate, where the horrid creatures were no doubt roaring and screeching in mockery of them at this very moment. "I don't know about you, but I'm not about to stand idly by while my people's lives are toyed with the same way!"

Gobber stared back in boredom for a second or two and sighed in frustration over Stoick's scolding. "Look, Stoick, we go through this every time: you going ta find the nest, only ta come back with fresh wounds ta lick and a need ta yell at everybody. Mind me if I find the whole thing a bit overdone."

Stoick only scoffed and walked away, not needing any more of Gobber's lip, or anyone's for that matter. He stopped and stared up at the top of the cliffs – there he could see all of the children who had gathered to see their parents come home, or to see if they had even survived. It was a half and half ratio, some happy once they spotted their fathers climb out, some devastated to see that theirs were missing and bowing their heads down in sorrow. It broke Stoick's heart to see that these children had no room for naiveté and knew all too soon of death, robbed of their parents and proper childhoods. It was never easy to have to announce the names of those who had died and see the grieving faces of their families, nor was it easy to plan all the funerals and build the pyres for all those noble souls to grant them safe journey to Valhalla.

The little good that came out of it was how it renewed both the resolve in the men that remained to fend off the dragons, and instilled a new sense of it in the children, who vowed to avenge their loved ones and destroy as many dragons as they could. He looked up at all those children and saw not saddened faces and broken hearts, but the next generation of protectors of Berk, warriors who would rise in their place and continue their tribe's great legacy.

But speaking of children, there was one who didn't stand among them, one missing from the crowd. Stoick felt that familiar headache coming on again looking at a random spot where he should have been.

He sighed as Gobber walked up behind him. "All right, where is he?"

"You'll havtae be a bit more specific than tha.'" Gobber said.

"Hiccup." Stoick growled, his mind immediately assuming the worst of whatever hijinks he had gotten into. "Where is he, what's he up to now?"

"Geez, yu make it sound like he's committed high treason." Gobber said with a cocked eyebrow. "Relax, he's probably back at the house takin' a nap or something."

"You mean you left him alone!?" Stoick shouted in anger at the smith. "Gobber, what were you thinking, leaving him unattended like that?"

"You know it wouldn't kill ya ta have a lit'l more trust in yur kid; he's not a baby, you know. Really, how much trouble do you think he'll get in by sleepin?" As much disdain as Gobber had for kids, he did think that they were smart enough to make the right choices on their own. After all, he himself was a child once, and he remembered when he had to learn to stand on his own two feet. If they made mistakes, then they would simply learn and move on, it was just a part of the process of growing up. He found it rather ridiculous that he understood that better than most fathers around here, but to Stoick's credit, he wasn't exactly the most exemplary parent.

"That's not the point, Gobber. Why is he alone in the house and not doin' his job over at the forge?" Stoick asked clearly annoyed.

"Ah, well, I had ta make him take a few days off." Gobber sheepishly rubbed his head with his now paddle-hand, earning a confused glare from Stoick. "He hasn't exactly got his head in his work lately, been daydreamin' inta the wee hours…"

"In other words, he's been shirking his responsibilities." Stoick said, shaking his head and running a hand down the exhausted features of his middle-aged face.

"Well, let's not go overboard here… ah, Stoick!" Gobber tried to stop Stoick, but the chief was already marching off up the pathways and back into the village, heading towards his house. Today had already been enough of a migraine for Stoick, the last thing he needed to hear about was his son's lackadaisical attitude in regards to his work. These days his son had been nothing but problems: first his recklessness, then his disobedience, and now this. Stoick had hoped he could avoid this at least until the boy's teenage years, where now these problems were sure to only increase tenfold. It was about time that boy got straightened out, he thought.

* * *

><p>Just as Gobber had said, Hiccup was sound asleep in his bed, the blanket pulled up and covering him right up to his shoulder blades to warm his whole body. Gobber had suggested that he might have been working too hard based on how he wasn't able to pay attention to his duties in the shop, and so suggested that he take a nap to relieve himself. Hiccup was more than happy to comply, especially after hearing from a couple of passing women that the Berk armada had been spotted. He was in no mood to see his father at that moment, especially when all the man had to offer these days was harsh criticism and bitter attitude that so perfectly reflected his name.<p>

He just wanted to keep his thoughts focused on Toothless and the magical flight they had shared together. Any thoughts or memories regarding his Night Fury were sanctuary to him, protecting him from the cold torment the village provided him. He was able to avoid Snotlout for today, probably due to the older child hiding in his house still shaking over nearly being blown to smithereens by a dragon. Luckily, no one believed him or the twins about the attack, which by extension meant they didn't believe anything about Hiccup being in the woods with them – probably just some ploy to get attention, they figured. But memories of other days when the boy had pounded on his little body threatened to poison his happy dreams, and clinging on to thoughts of Toothless was the only way to shelter himself. He clenched his eyes ever so slightly, and fidgeted to try and shake the bad thoughts away as much as he could to keep the dreams of Toothless and the sky going as long as he could.

He dreamed of the two of them gliding through a velvety forest of cloud placed upon a dark blue sky brightened by the warm sunrise that peeked through and gently touched his skin. He could feel at peace between the soft rays and the crisp morning breeze that filled his lungs and refreshed his energy to its greatest peak. They charged through a row of smaller clouds, breaking holes through each one in billowing, soundless crashes that scattered the condensed air. The two could both feel the sudden rush of icy moisture on their faces snapping their eyes open and instantly drying, while their bodies caught onto remaining trails of cloud that dissipated soon after.

Toothless banked and spiraled around a rather large formation, curving and cutting through the surface by the very base of his wing. The skimming movement created a trail of smoke thin and nearly invisible, the precision in how the formation of clouds remained pristine astounding Hiccup at his dragon's great control of his flight.

They made a game of leaping through the thinner clouds, making each one a pretend safe zone that Toothless would leap off of and land safely on the next. He would crouch his paws in and wiggle his tail and behind, then swoop over in a mock jumping fashion with a beat of his large black wings and flap in place descending safely down on an adjacent 'platform.' It was like a fun game of hopscotch or leap frog in the sky, Hiccup laughing cheerfully as he bounced along on Toothless's back and especially when he looked back and saw the little Night Fury's tail wag happily along before pouncing forward. The boy would count the clouds as they went on or make up funny little rhymes about past Vikings and their exploits against dragons in lighthearted fashion. Most of his rhymes seemed to recount Bork the Bold and his numerous misfortunes caused by pesky dragons stealing his food and making fun of him.

At the last smaller cloud before another great mass, they leaped ahead again, Toothless's belly brushing against the weedy wisps at the very top. Their gaseous yet somewhat solid mass tickled his belly and the dragon rumbled with a noise akin to laughter, swiping down with his claws to catch the meddlesome things. His eyes by now were dilated into two perfect black orbs with the roundness of the full moon in the night sky. He even lolled out his tongue and joyfully let it flap in the air, the sound of his flapping gums catching Hiccup's ears.

Finally they crossed the bank, exposing to their view miles and miles of sparkling blue seawater, a soft yellow hue revealing the waves blown in the breeze. Hiccup's eyes were arrested to the water's movement, his eyes reflected and traced every single wavelet, and painted a permanent picture in his mind of that stunning ocean drawn from his memories of the real world.

The wind that blew his hair back continued to sound in his ears as he held tight onto Toothless's neck and lowered down, holding and rubbing him lovingly in gratitude. Even in a dream, it still seemed so beautiful, so remarkably realistic the lines between dream and reality themselves just blurred like the line dividing sea and sky.

For a fleeting moment, Hiccup believed it was real, that it was the only thing that was ever real, Berk and the pressures and problems he faced therein having been some great illusion or prolonged nightmare. Every part of his life now had only ever been the days with Toothless, his life having only ever started the day they met and together touched the realm that man could not reach. The dawn and the sky it was set upon were the first things he had ever seen, the clouds and wind being the first things he ever felt. Hiccup felt more alive now than he ever had before, his body twitching with pure energy, and he wanted to scream to the world that he was here, he himself.

At that moment of epiphany, things had changed, gone in a complete reverse direction from the tranquility of mere seconds ago. The sky and clouds inverted in color, the sky becoming a disturbing shade of red orange while the clouds turned pitch black. Hiccup's excitement had suddenly turned to caution and fear, trying to puzzle what was suddenly happening to his perfect new world. Toothless had wondered the same, his head darting back and forth to puzzle out what had become of their aerial paradise to this warped opposite.

The clouds suddenly started to burn away, flames evaporating the once-luminescent and enjoyable formations away. The flames rose up and consumed them, leaving nothing but blazes in the sky that had little to burn but empty air. The sky, in the meantime, had holes forming in random parts of it, widening out with the edges flickering with the dangerous, familiar light of the surrounding blazes. That empyrean space seemed to be a simple tapestry or a sheet of paper that had been held to a candle and broken through. The lights of purgatory surrounded them from all around, reminding Hiccup of the raids on his island when the dragons burned through one home after another, then the catapults, the fences, and even the grass. The stars would be completely lost from view, at least they would be to anyone who was watching and not fighting for their life or in his case, hiding in the Great Hall or their house praying for it to end. Hiccup looked down and saw that even the ocean's original azure color was gone, turned black to resemble oil or tar. All around him, his dream world was being shattered; where once he wanted to scream his confident spirit out, now he just wanted to scream.

Toothless's sharp cry of alarm turned him forward to perhaps the most disturbing part yet. From a field of hovering fire before them, a massive figure started to rise. It must have reached to be at least 25 stories high, some human-shaped monstrosity from within the cloud itself. The giant seemed to be a dark shadow coated in flame, or perhaps it was Hiccup's eyes trying to adjust in between the irksome flying sparks and the body itself was actually made of fire.

When its face finally showed himself, Hiccup gasped to see the startling resemblance to a Viking face. A beard crafted from a raging inferno connected to a contrastingly stone-cold face with hollow, haunting, pupil-less eyes. The horns attached to the helmet he wore were lit like the torches used to survey the skies over Berk come nightfall, rising up with emotionless rage to alert the warriors to signs of the enemy approaching.

What drew the full attention of Hiccup and his dream Toothless, however, was the belly of this ghoulish apparition. On its stomach was a menacing visage that appeared similar to the stone totems in front of the island, which had remained lit for countless decades. Two empty holes for eyes above a gaping maw lined with razor sharped teeth too reminiscent of a wild dragon's or wolf's. Its snout was extended out with upturned nostrils to reflect the prideful, arrogant nature of most Vikings. Toothless seemed to be drawn in by the size of the jaws yet completely frozen in place; it was all the little dragon could do to flap his wings and keep himself airborne. There seemed to be no chance of escape, no way for either himself or Hiccup to come out alive.

And Hiccup was feeling the same way – he was too shaken, too terrified to even move or speak; he wanted to cry but felt his voice seized within his throat. A squeak or whimper would be all he could manage now at best. He could just feel both sets of eyes and their seeming omnidirectional gaze bear down upon him completely, declaring with thunderous force and volume enough to spur the seas and shatter the earth.

'_**Eyða**__**…**__** Eyða… Eyða…**__**'**_

The giant drudgingly raised up its fist and attempted to reach out to trap the two, crushing them and incinerating their tiny bodies. Hiccup was the first to snap out of the morbid trance and desperately tried to shake Toothless out of it as well, grabbing him by his tiny little ear flaps and yanked and shook them as hard as he could. The dragon would not move, however, his mouth hung open like his jawbone had broken. Hiccup tried to scream, but was shocked to find there was no sound whatsoever; save for the ambient noises in the background, the world inside this dream was completely mute now.

The hand fell further and further, at a drudgingly slow pace but with pressure emitted by the mass of the oversized appendage breaking the flaming air around them. Hiccup panicked; even a finger pressed down would be enough to crush them, especially when that finger was large enough to fit into the entire cove. The more he tried to shake Toothless, the firmer the dragon held in place, his fear too strong, the sweltering heat of the flames finally reaching them in full and triggering the drops of sweat to fall from Hiccup's face. The shadow closed in, and Hiccup braced for the impact…

Until Toothless finally managed to shake himself back to his senses, and they dived down, just seconds before the hand reached them. Still it continued to pursue them, the two of them able to see the shadow growing larger and larger upon the water's surface. Toothless folded in his wings to gain greater speed, employing the dive-bomb tactics that his kind were known for, and instantly the two accelerated. Still though, they could feel the heat from the fire, Hiccup finding it harder to breathe with each second and hyperventilating to bring in every little bit of air he could. He looked back to see the clenched hand ready to crash on top of them at any moment, and could not for all the might he could muster bring himself to look away from it.

Finally they had reached the water, and Toothless, with a lack of options, simply dove right into the water, the giant's hand coming very soon after.

But instead of the dark murkiness beneath the water that he expected, Hiccup found himself falling through a completely overcast sky. It was a gloomy, lifeless gray all around, not a single speck of blue anywhere to be found in contrast to the beginning. There was light, coming from the far off distance, but it just barely managed to break through the apparent wall the formation seemed to be.

What struck Hiccup as odd was that unlike in either of the two settings, there was no sense of temperature, hot or cold; in fact there wasn't any wind at all. He also found his body weighed down by some unknown compressive force, seemingly multiplying his normal, previously insignificant body weight a thousand times over. He could barely move in the air at all, save for a sparse wiggle or two from his arms. It truly was strange to fall from the sky and yet still feel like he was completely submerged underwater as he expected to be after his life-threatening situation.

Finally he landed, rolling over on his back, not feeling any pain or injuries at all despite having fallen what seemed to be a hundred feet. He opened his tightly shut eyes and looked up to see that the sky was not there, obscured by a ceiling of pure white. Looking around, he was completely surrounded by white, in what looked to be a long hallway of polished stone with columns orderly standing out at the sides. Hiccup felt deeply impressed at the usage of stone in the construction, never seeing anything other than wood used as building material before in his life. It gave the place a more refined appearance, a sort of elegance that spoke of a great importance.

The hall, at that moment, was completely quiet, not a sound to be heard, and no signs of activity whatsoever; it seemed to be completely abandoned. Hiccup felt strangely scared at the sense of solitude in this mysterious place, all too used to noise and calamity like that in his village. Whether it be laughing children, shouting adults, or squealing animals, or sounds like the ocean or chirping birds, there was always something to indicate the liveliness of Berk.

He turned all around and noticed something rather important, and that was that he was all alone in this hallway. Toothless had completely disappeared around the time they dove into the water, and now he was on his own. Hiccup frantically looked for his friend, racing down the hall to see if his dragon had fallen in another area. He prayed to all the gods he knew, Odin, Thor, Tyr, whoever came into his mind, that Toothless was alright and he would not have to be on his own in here.

As he ran, he couldn't help but feel that sense of great importance he noticed when he first looked at the hall. That sense had grown stronger, now that he had prayed to the gods for help in finding Toothless, his mind fitting the two pieces together and defining his strange emotions with logical assumption or at least reasonable explanation. This placed seemed special in a… sacred sense, a hallowed area radiating with mystique and reverence; chaos and order, light and darkness were brought together in painting the halls a blank, neutral ivory. Each step, each clack of his leather boots against the stone floor shattered out like a lightning strike summoned forth by Thor's mighty hammer. Hiccup could feel the power of the divine flowing through every inch of this hall, though its true identity remained a complete unknown to him.

Hiccup hardly noticed his pace slow down while he pondered just what this place could be to give off such an air of veneration. He naively thought if maybe this was where the gods lived, but his thoughts were interrupted as he came to a massive door. It may have been only about half the size of the fiery giant that he escaped beforehand, but the designs carved upon the surface did not make it any less eye-catching. Around its perimeter were thousands of runes of a language vaguely similar to their own yet completely unreadable. On each door was a depiction of a warrior riding a dragon, reminding Hiccup of the dream he had before where he saw the black armored rider flying on another dragon, a grown-up Night Fury. The rider's face was completely masked, giving Hiccup no clue as to whether or not it was really him like he thought.

A loud creak sounded as the door slowly opened wide, bringing Hiccup to a rotunda, colored stark white just like the hall before it. There were white columns surrounding them, but there were no walls behind this time, giving Hiccup a clear view of the gloomy sky he had fallen through prior to landing in the hall. All he saw was sky, though, leaving the boy to wonder just how up this place was not to see any buildings outside or perhaps if the clouds were so thick the rest of this strange place was veiled behind them. The edge of the room was lines with a thin, metal fence, probably to keep any that entered this room from falling off the edge. At the bottom edges of the domed ceiling were small statues of dragons, their heads and torsos finely crafted and pointed up straight at the top. Hiccup recognized each one as one of the common dragons like those that the Vikings fought, and even those resembling breeds he saw in the Book of Dragons, yet there were other breeds he wasn't able to recognize in the slightest.

_A soul reborn… a dormant strength…_

Hiccup quietly walked forward to a table in the center of the room, a circular one littered with metal pieces. There were bolts and screws and all types of fastening components, mixed together with larger parts, rods, strings and barrels. There were two little dragon wings apart from each other, along with a hilt crafted in the shape of a dragon mouth, designed similarly to the boats his tribe sailed upon and a little dragon head round yet flat. The largest pieces there appeared to be pieces of a sword, cut into segments and split in half, the steel designed with ornate runes and painted in shades of white and black. The edges of the blades were segmented and seemed to be able to open up, making Hiccup think that something was supposed to go inside it.

He took one of the blade pieces, what looked to be half of the sword's tip, and his mind flashed back to the dream. When the fire-lit sword appeared in his mind, how it lit when he grabbed it; the flames died out and he could see the blade in full. The image was hazy though, and seemed to blur and black out very quickly, disappearing as soon as it came.

_A will solid as steel, torrid as flame… power given form…_

_The dream shows the way…_

Was he supposed to put the sword together? Hiccup questioned as he looked down at the pieces all sprawled out. He felt highly unconfident that he could craft what looked to be a highly complex weapon, especially when he had only started making daggers at the forge. How was he supposed to know how all these pieces fit, where each one went, how they were supposed to work? It just seemed impossible, there was no way he could do it.

All these voices that told him such things, that he was no good, that surely he'd find some way to mess it up, they sounded remarkably similar to the Berkians. Snotlout, the twins, Spitelout, Astrid, his father, and many, many more, all reminding him that he was only good at making mistakes. As if he could make craft such a blade, one that could make others burn with envy and make their own swords like cheap toys in comparison.

But another voice, one that sounded his own, small and meek yet booming out to silence the other voices of doubt, told him he should at least try.

* * *

><p>Hiccup finally woke up with a gasp after being seemingly trapped in his dream, snapping his eyes open at last. He sat up straight in his bed, panting heavily and looking around to find himself back in his room, the shadows indicating it was only a little ways into the afternoon. He gripped his blanket in response to the memories of the uncontrollable chain of events occurring in his imagination, surprisingly clear, as if it was all being replayed in front of him. The familiar sight of his room just blurred out as he stared off into space.<p>

Until he was snapped back to attention by a series of loud slams upon his closed door, someone on the other side eagerly wanting to get in. Hiccup though for a moment it might have been Goober, needing his help at the forge with some last minute duty or a rush of customers needing their weapons repaired. He was sadly mistaken when he heard the person's voice from behind, fraught with frustration.

"HICCUP! OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

It was his father, he was back from the hunt, and his anger was suggestive at how he had predictably once again failed. Hiccup could not have guessed just what he was mad at him for this time – it seemed any little thing he did was enough to make his chieftain father blow his top nowadays. All he knew was that he did not want to be around to find out.

"HICCUP, I'M WARNING YOU!"

The blows upon the door seemed to grow much more forceful, threatening to break the door down off its hinges. It ended up going that far anyway as Stoick finally rammed the door down with his shoulder, expecting to find his lazy child dozing off when he should be at the forge, working; oh the lecture he would give if that were the case. But instead of a boy sleeping cozily in his bed, Stoick found the room completely abandoned, the blanket pulled away hurriedly. Stoick looked around to see if Hiccup was hiding anywhere in the room, but found nothing.

Hiccup had escaped as quickly as he could by climbing out of the window placed by his bed, then just jumped out to the ground below. He rolled in order to avoid any serious injury and made off for the forest. There was the only person he felt like talking to at the moment.

* * *

><p>Hiccup was just laying atop Toothless' side, petting the dragon absentmindedly on the head in the cove. Toothless purred contently while laying his head on his paws, his tail curled up around his boy. As peaceful as they looked, Hiccup was in total distress, his mind reeling with a million questions all with no discernible answer.<p>

"I just don't understand, Toothless. What was that place? How did I imagine it? All I think about these days is flying and suddenly I get warped to some weird building where I'm supposed to build the weirdest sword ever?" He just buried his face into Toothless' scales, gripping his hair so as to stop the pain of the headache squeezing his brain like a vice. Toothless lifted his head immediately sensing Hiccup's distress and gave him a soft lick and a coo, trying to tell his boy everything would be alright. Hiccup just sighed in frustration and let his hand fall limp to the ground.

"I don't know why I keep having these weird dreams…" He spoke with his cheek pressed against the dragon's side. "What is it all supposed to mean, anyway?"

He remembered Gothi asking him if he had experienced any strange dreams but at the time he denied it because it didn't seem like an issue. He wasn't sure if the elder believed him; heck he hardly believed himself, but he was fairly confident. He figured that first one was just some out of place figment caused by stress or excitement getting to him. Hiccup had his doubts over this reasoning, instinct telling him it was or had to be something more, but one good overview of the dream that more than half the things he saw were just too unbelievable to be real. Now, he wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

"Toothless… I've got a bad feeling about all this…"

He sighed and let himself drift off to resume his nap, hoping this time he could just enjoy a normal dream.

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><p><strong>Review, favorite, follow! Next chapter is where things really heat up to a fever pitch!<strong>

**FYI, the word 'eyoa' mentioned before means, in Old Norse, 'destroy.' So the giant was just saying destroy, destroy, destroy. Be prepared for more of that kind of stuff sprinkled in later chapters.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm sorry this one got in so late – I fell a little behind with updates for my stories and business with finals. But here we are, the next chapter, and it's my longest yet.**

**And wow, 200 followers already, just from posting these admittedly rather depressing chapters! I can hardly wait until we get to the big stuff.**

**This chapter was based on a request from a reviewer, for Hiccup to have a final confrontation with Stoick of sorts. I wasn't planning on it when I planned out the plot, but I liked the idea, so here it is. So yeah, you can give some more suggestions, and I'll be willing to see what I can do to fit them in if I like them enough. Don't hate me too much, but here's where the angst rises up to dangerously high levels.**

**All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.**

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><p>Hiccup was having a hard enough time as it was trying to see Toothless for the next couple of days, never finding time to sneak into the forest. He was always too worried his father would see him sneaking away, his actions only increasing the man's rage even further. Stoick was still heavily intent on delivering the lecture of a lifetime to Hiccup for his neglect of work at the forge and assumedly causing trouble. That annoyed Hiccup greatly, to think his father would just jump to conclusions about his being a pest to the other villagers.<p>

Hiccup had actually been working at the forge while hiding from his father, despite Stoick's opinions on his lackadaisical attitude. He was in his little workspace in the back of the forge, the spot Gobber had rented to him so he could have a nice quiet spot to work without someone yelling at him every five minutes. Hiccup loved this space, the walls decorated on every inch with pictures of ideas he had for machines, crude depictions of what they were and what their designated function was. The space was his own, a practical journey inside his mind where a plethora of ideas were being born each and every day. A candle was lit to provide the boy a sparse amount of light to draw with in the dark room, half-melted from previous use, illuminating the dark corners and highlighting inventions that were yet to be created. The shelves were lined with spare parts for use in building these inventions, as well as a few books here and there explaining the mechanics behind different weapons and machinery such as the catapults that lined the perimeter of the island for defense against dragons. As a whole, it was a bit sparse and empty, but Hiccup figured ways on from now the room would be littered with other, newer, better ideas, ideas the others would have to recognize.

He was hard at work on another one of those ideas now, for a new machine, another invention of his that could benefit Berk somehow. He didn't care what anyone else said: he wanted to make a fair contribution to help improve life on Berk, and this was the only way he knew to do it. He was powerful in mind, not body, already showing prowess beyond his years; beyond his time period, really. He agreed that yes, his plans may have seemed a bit ambitious or crazy, but if people were just willing to give them a chance they could really change things around Berk for the better.

This machine in particular was designed to make planting crops a little easier for the farmers; it was a bouncing stick meant to quickly plant seeds with rotating canisters of dirt and water attached. The stick could dig a hole with the perfect amount of deepness and then eject a seed from the spring built within the tip of the metal piston into the ground, dispensing dirt to seal up the hole, then water it. His attempts at making dragon killing devices didn't go well, and now that he had a dragon for a best friend, Hiccup couldn't bring himself to make anything that could potentially make a dragon's life. Hiccup figured the next best thing was improving daily life; it was basically the same thing as before, doing something that was sure to make the people see his worth.

He had just finished calibrating the springs within the metal pole and was now attaching the canisters to the top near the handles when he heard a knock at the door. Hiccup was surprised at the gentleness of the knock – it couldn't have been his father, who was breaking doors down with one good pound nowadays. It couldn't have been Gobber either – the smith could never be that gentle, Hiccup sometimes wondering if he even knew what gentle was. So then who…?

"Hiccup, what are you doing?" A young girl's voice asked. Hiccup groaned, it was Astrid. He said nothing and returned to his work, trying to ignore the continued knocks.

"Hiccup, I know you're in there. You better not be working on another crazy invention of yours, your dad's mad enough as it is." She pointed out. Again the boy ignored her, focused solely on getting his invention to work and not have a repeat of what happened the last time.

After the dream he had had the other day, with the giant flaming Viking figure, he didn't really want to deal with anyone right now. That, and the villagers hadn't exactly been very kind to him in recent memory. The latter alone wouldn't have been enough for him to isolate himself from everyone, but the former had left him with a feeling he couldn't place. A feeling of suspicion, maybe, like everyone around him suddenly wasn't trustworthy; he did question it, considering he had lived with these people all his life for the short amount of time it was and was mostly convinced they wouldn't try to do him harm. The evidence against his people was overwhelming though, and his nervousness around them had increased to a point beyond a lack of happiness, where he simply no longer felt safe among them. He had considered speaking to Gothi about the matter and receiving her sage advice on what the dreams meant. The elder had asked if he had any strange dreams lately, and what he saw the previous nights definitely qualified. But he couldn't help but notice Gothi giving him a small flash of the evil eye, possibly sensing the connection to Toothless; Hiccup wasn't about to be interrogated like some criminal, so he put the matter aside.

Quickly getting frustrated, Astrid pounded on the door interrupting again, hard enough that she knew the irksome boy could hear her. "Okay, listen up! I have better things to do than check up on you like some nanny. So either you come out this door right now or I'll bust in and drag you out!" He better have come out in the next few moments or she was going to take her axe and hack the door open. She might get reprimanded by Gobber, but Hiccup was being too annoying for her to care anyway. Hiccup was the problem here, not her.

In the blink of an eye, the door was opened, revealing a very irritated Hiccup standing at the door, his face fixed in a scowl that, although rather soft compared to his elders, was very unbecoming of him. Astrid was surprised, but the look of anger on her own face did little to betray it. A second passed as they just stood there, staring at each other in pure annoyance, the tension practically choking them with airy hands. Hiccup was the one to break the silence and speak.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"I came to tell you your dad's looking for you, he wants to talk to you." Astrid said.

"Tell me something I don't know…" said Hiccup as he prepared to go back to work. Astrid held back the door before he could close it completely and forced it completely open. The torrent of light from outside was blinding next to the singular flicker he had been working with for the past few hours. He winced from the sudden discomfort it brought upon his eyes.

"No, how about you tell me something I don't know…" She stared angrily, "…like why you've been avoiding him for the past couple of days? He's your chief – when he talks, you listen."

Hiccup never turned to face her, instead he continued to work on his project, his arms fiddling around working with the components. He tried to tighten the screws which would fasten the canisters in place, Astrid's words driving his hand more than necessary. Others were expected to listen when his father spoke, but in the rare moments when he talked or simply given the chance to, the chief just cut him off. His words could never break that wall that fortified his father's thoughts, because there was no strength to back them in his opinion. Hiccup was not that ideal son his father wanted, so Stoick must have figured his thoughts just weren't listening to, and never would be until the boy could learn to walk, talk, act, and think like everyone else. Why his way of doing things, his thoughts of progress, were so terrible, he would probably never know.

"Well? Aren't you gonna say something?" Astrid asked, her anger flaring up to dangerous levels. "I'm not leaving until you give me an answer."

Hiccup only turned his head partway to spare her a glance, stopping his work and giving her his attention out of simple courtesy. "I thought you said you weren't my nanny. You don't seem to have any trouble acting like it."

Astrid's eyes widened briefly before narrowing them again in anger, pointing a finger of accusation straight at him. "Hey, I'm just trying to figure out what your problem is."

"MY problem!?" Hiccup asked incredulously, spinning around to face her in full, in total disbelief at her statement.

"Between these inventions and your running off and disappearing every day, you're already causing a lot of people headaches. Now there's this attitude to go with it all – you'd think you'd show your people a bit more consideration than that."

Those words may as well have been a slap in the face to Hiccup, his heart feeling the sting as opposed to his cheek. His jaw was dropped to the ground and his arms fallen limply at his side, his bones left slack over her statement. Astrid, on the other hand, showed not a hint of remorse from her 'attack' on Hiccup; she meant what she said, with no more respect for their former friendship she honestly believed it. It was about time Hiccup had heard the truth about how much of a nuisance he was, but unlike Snotlout, she was going to do it the right way. No insults, no threats, just come out and say it, and if he felt bad, good. It would be all the more inspiration for him to get his act together and start learning to do things like he should be.

"All you do is cause problems; why can't you just help Gobber in the forge like you're supposed to!? Stop wasting time on these ridiculous ideas of yours and start doing something for you village!" She shouted.

Hiccup's fists clenched with white-turned knuckles and anger boiled over inside of him like broth set over the fire. No way was he going to let Astrid just insult him and his efforts like this; sure they didn't always turn out well, but his intentions should have at least shone through. Her arguments were completely unfounded, especially if all she had to look at were results – he wasn't one to think of himself but he figured he deserved at least a little more than that. With a foot set forward he shouted, trying to stop any tears before they even had the chance to form.

"I am doing something for my village! That's all I've ever done!" He gestured back to the wall of pictures behind him hidden in the semi-dark room. "All my inventions, all these 'ridiculous ideas', everything; I come up with it all to try to help you guys! That's all I've ever wanted, to do my part, to be a Viking, to show I _can_ do things right, that I'm not… 'Hiccup the Useless!' I don't need some lecture on responsibility from my father, which, by the way, you've already spared him the trouble of giving. Go ahead and tell him; I'm sure he'll give you a big pat on the back for that, and you can feel especially proud because that's more than he ever gave me!"

Astrid was unfazed at the boy's outburst; in fact it seemed Hiccup had said something that she was expecting him to spit out. She scoffed and crossed her arms and held herself in a dignified manner just as any adult Viking like her parents or the chief would, blowing back her bangs. "And the truth comes out…"

"What?" Hiccup said.

"You're doing all this because you want to get attention from your dad; don't deny it, you just said so! I bet you're running off into those woods, even after he told you not to, and you're doing it anyway just to make him run in after you! Here I thought you might be a worthwhile chief, and here you are acting like a spoiled brat!"

"So what does that make you?" Hiccup asked, getting Astrid's astonished attention at last. She just gazed back at him frozenly while Hiccup continued on. "Your parents tell you to stop talking to someone and you just go along with it, no questions asked? They say it's for your future as a shield-maiden and you need to get rid of anything that might get in the way of that. If they told you to jump off of the side of the island 'cause of your future, would you do that too? You're just trying to please them, and my dad, and pretty much everyone else – I know how hard you've been pushing yourself in training, and I know it's so they'll think more of you. You're calling me a spoiled brat, well you're just a-a… lap dog!"

Just as he finished, he felt a hand grab him and shove him down to the floor, the hard stone colliding with his elbow and sending a sharp jolt of pain up his arm. That was all Astrid could take, all the insolence a little fishbone like him was going to give to her. Her parents were right, Hiccup was only going to be a hindrance to her just like he was to everyone else. Looking at him now, she could perceive his entire future, a life of incompetence, of embarrassment, of making things worse for everyone around him. From the moment she met him he had just held her back, wasted her time with foolish sentiment; she was a Viking, a shield-maiden, she was destined for greater things. She was going to be, no, she was already more than he could and was ever going to be.

"No one… calls me a lap dog… especially not you." She growled dangerously at him, walking over to where he laid in a fetal position on the ground. She was towering over him while he held his elbow and easing the throbbing in his arm, but still felt the surges of discomfort slither down his arm. With a glare she spoke. "That was for the attitude."

She then walked off to his worktable and picked up one of the drawings he had just completed, the makeshift diagram of the bouncing planter. She turned back to Hiccup and coldly glared at him, holding up the paper to give him a good view. With cruelly slow speed, she tore the paper in half and tossed the remains down upon him, Hiccup only watching in shock as the pieces fluttered down to the ground.

"And that… was for everything else."

She walked back over to him and held up her heavy practice axe, releasing her grip and letting it fall down upon his side. He felt the wooden pole puncture him and he let out a sharp gasp, bringing his hand to his side to soothe the pain. Astrid just walked off leaving Hiccup to writhe – that was the price he would have to pay for insulting her pride.

Gobber, who had just finished delivering repaired weapons to their owners, came in from the side of the forge, toting his now empty wheelbarrow. He managed to spot Astrid coming out from the opposite end, face fixed in a look of fury that could rival even Stoick the Vast's. With a cocked eyebrow he parked the wheelbarrow just outside the entrance and moved in. Pushing past the barrels of weapons still in need of repair and the shelves of tools with which to repair them in addition to weapon replacements, he found Hiccup. The boy laid there curled up on the floor just inside his workspace, trying to close himself in even further.

Gobber connected this to Astrid's foul mood as she was just leaving and sighed and shook his head. The boy obviously had done something to anger her – not that that wasn't believable. Hiccup had a knack these days for driving people up the wall; the boy could drive even a passive sheep into a frenzy. It seemed he learned the hard way that Helheim had no greater fury than a woman scorned. The smith walked in and lazily scooped up the boy by the hem of his tunic, Hiccup just continuing to stare down.

"So, ya want ta tell me wha' exac'ly happened here?" Gobber asked.

Hiccup just held his head down to the ground, glaring bitterly to avoid showing the smith his pathetic appearance. Bruised and beaten, with pain that confirmed the silent warning of his dreams, he only spoke in a miserable, angry tone.

"No."

* * *

><p>A day of flying with Toothless the day after had left him in much better spirits for today, much more confident and prepared for the big moment. Though the skies above were overcast, looking as though it might rain, it did not affect his sunny spirits. He had completed the final touches on his device, making absolute certain that nothing could possibly go wrong, anticipating every possible problem and adjusting it for such, and now it was ready for its first test run. He let loose a breath of excitement from his nostrils, just letting the eagerness well up inside. He headed off to the fields just past the farmhouses, not letting the calm, chilling breezes signaling winter's approach slow down his pace.<p>

Hiccup dragged out his device underneath his arm, letting the bottom piston drag along and dig a trail in the ground, hefting it back up once it started to slip from his grasp. Passing Vikings who were running their errands, carrying wood, cloth, and scrap metal to repair the still broken ships or distributing food to the workers saw the trail and looked to see the boy with his new invention. Almost instantly a million cries of annoyance and exasperation were heard, blending together in one massive outcry of protest. Most people were just staring angrily at him, shouting to the point where their lungs could burst from the strain, but some were fed up enough to try and chase after him and try to rip the mechanical menace out of his hands before he could wreak as much havoc as he did with the last one. Noticing that he was headed off in the direction of the fields only made them quicken their pace, worried that his invention would end up devastating their food supply.

Hiccup took notice of the Vikings chasing him and ran off, going as fast as his legs could carry him while holding the large metal object. Luckily his size and his lack of fat enabled much greater speed from the young boy, but the weight of the planter and the fact that it kept slipping out of his arms only made things more difficult. They ran past several rows of houses, the number of Vikings in pursuit of him only increasing once others caught a glimpse of the planter and feared the worst. Hiccup had to move in between several houses to try and shake off the larger, burly men; his bone-thin body for once providing an advantage. He was able to gain a few feet more distance between him and then, inwardly sighing in relief while the men had to take the longer way down several paths. It gave him a little more breathing room once he'd finally reached the fields, having the chance to test out his invention before anyone else could interrupt him.

He set the planter upright while grasping onto the handlebars, placing his feet atop the foot pegs and trying to steady himself when it wobbled and tipped front and back. He pulled on the bars to pull it back when it tipped forward and placed his foot back on the ground and pushed it when it tipped back. Once he had gotten his balance aligned and his nerves straightened out, he began bouncing in place to test out the spring, and to his delight found it to be working efficiently. So fat things were going well; maybe he should have built things like this from the start.

The most important part of the test, where he could see if it could plant seeds, was about to get underway when the Vikings finally caught them. They wasted no time in trying to take the device and rip it to pieces before it could do any damage, heading straight for him with clenched hands ready to tear the infernal device apart. Hiccup gasped and fell back from the planter landing on his seat on the ground, just watching as they approached like a herd of wild boars. Worried his device would be destroyed before he even got the chance to see if it worked or not, he crawled over to the planter and sat atop it, holding out with his hands and crying with as much force as he could muster.

"WAIT!"

The crowd stopped, just inches apart from him, looking no less angry and apprehensive as they did mere moments ago. Hiccup stood from his position, taking up the planter by the handles and holding it upright while leaning it on his shoulder. He gulped audibly looking at the sea of glares before him, feeling the bones in his knees turn to jelly and spikes jutting around inside his stomach. He always hated being the center of attention, having everyone look at him, especially with those eyes. It was one of the big reasons he didn't want to be chief, knowing that this was going to be common occurrence for him. Still, he had to prove that he was onto something, that his inventions could work, and he had already seen signs that they could, so he held his ground and spoke out.

"I-I know… my last invention didn't go well…" and he was greeted by roars of anger and complaint to agree with him. Though he couldn't hear the words, some were stating that they still sported the scars from that arrow launcher, pointing to the stitched up wounds on their arms and stomachs that just narrowly missed their vital organs. "But… I know this one will! I've already done a little testing with it, and it's working just fine. This one will work, I'm sure of it!"

"Bah!" Shouted one Viking. "What does that little runt know!? I say we smash the thing now before it does any damage!"

"I agree!" Shouted a female Viking. "You've seen what that last contraption o' his did! He's practically lendin' the dragons a hand in killin' us off!"

"I'm not trying to kill anyone!" Hiccup shouted, offended that they would think he would purposefully try to do them harm. "This isn't even a war device! You use it for planting seeds, and it'll do it a lot faster; just let me show you how it works!"

The Vikings all looked to each other – admittedly some seemed a bit bored after hearing the device's intended function. Their penchant for war and violence and their culture's heavy emphasis around it left them not entirely interested in anything that wasn't related to killing dragons. On the other hand, some were still skeptical that something could go wrong: as handy as that planter sounded, it was a Hiccup-invented item – enough could be said about that, and more than enough had. In silent consensus, the villagers decided overall to give the boy's invention a look at: they could worry about cleanup once the damage had been done. The crowd backed away to give the boy space to work, perhaps a few steps too many, in fear of the planter going rampant and willing to preserve themselves a few more years. From gaps in between the adults, some of the children started coming out, including Fishlegs, Snotlout and the twins who were already laughing at him, and Astrid. The girl gave him a hard glare and crossed her arms, just waiting with silent anticipation for the boy to once again make a fool of himself.

Seeing the kids his age and their enjoyment at his being put up on the spot stoked the fires of determination in him. With a glare locked with Astrid's he set himself upright on the planter once again, and began hopping in place once more. Some of the villagers' gazes actually started to soften, the device appearing for now like it was completely harmless. Hiccup had hardly noticed, keeping his attention fixed upon his current task.

"The way it works is… you bounce a hole into the ground for the seeds to be planted in." The piston bounced and dug into the soft earth, each hop applying Hiccup's meager weight into it, though the boy pressed down hard to compensate for this. With each bounce, the hole grew deeper and deeper, the tip sinking further in while the dirt around was pulled into the radius of the hole. After about three bounces, the hole had been rendered deep enough to continue.

"Then, with a press of a button, the seed gets planted into the ground." True to word, he pressed a button on the left handlebar, engaging the spring within the metal rod. With another bounce down, the tip ejected a small vegetable seed into the soil, revealed to the crowd once he bounced away. Though the mood was still something to be desired, a few people had given nods of approval at seeing the effectiveness of the device. It did seem like it could be helpful, the farmers in the crowd blissfully imagining how quickly their work could be done with this device.

"And now you cover up the seed and water it." He twisted back the other handlebar, engaging the wheel where the canisters were attached. The first canister dispensed a mound of dirt that plugged up the hole with a plop, evenly covering the hole to give no indication that it had ever been dug in the first place. The wheel then rotated and the second canister dispensed a small shower of water to nourish the seed.

Hiccup could barely contain his delight and excitement seeing his invention working properly. It was doing exactly what it was intended to do, even as the minutes rolled by and he had planted more seeds in. The crowd of Vikings watching was starting to lighten up, some were actually smiling seeing his device at work, gazing at its results in wonder and whispering words of praise to their nearby neighbors. It was all Hiccup could have wanted: for once the Gods were smiling down upon him, granting him good fortune. All of the darkness and sadness of the past couple months blown away in the happiness flooding through him, the exhilarating feeling like a blizzard with winds powerful enough to tear stone from the earth. The feeling was so strong it could almost match with the day Toothless took him flying into the air, though nothing could ever truly surpass that incomparable joy even the memory alone seemed to give. He could see this was only the beginning: now that people had finally recognized his genius, they could build more of his devices, more inventions to help the village. They could build machines to harness the wind, the water, all of nature for everything from agriculture to even their defenses; Hiccup didn't want to kill dragons, but he figured he could still help fortify the village from the raids. They could grow more food, be better prepared for the harsher months, and finally be able to build their homes more nicely, maybe even with more solid material like stone. He could see it now, a better, more advanced Berk that would be the envy of all the other islands, oh the elation his father would feel. Hiccup could almost hear his father actually say the words, 'son, I'm proud of you…'

But that might have been too much for some, knowing that Hiccup was going to be the star of the village. The other kids were still staring at him with looks of disgust, Astrid and Snotlout specifically; it was ridiculous that Hiccup was actually going to get recognition for his stupid machines. If he was going to get people to respect him, it should have been because he did things properly like the rest of them; he should have earned it for his skill as a warrior, his strength, with the head of a dragon as his trophy. On any island, in any tribe, that was what counted most: how strong you were and how many dragons you killed, and what kind – that was what defined the greatest, most honorable Vikings. That was how real Vikings like his father got to the top and made people admire and even worship him so. That was what Astrid thought, at least.

For Snotlout and the twins, it was just stupid seeing Hiccup be congratulated simply because he was Hiccup. The boy wasn't worth respect in any form or on any level, he was a worm compared to them – they were the perfect Vikings, they were the ones who should be praised, for being everything Vikings should have been. They who stood on a higher level compared to people like him, Snotlout especially. The large boy turned back and sneered at the crowd looking on in awe in Hiccup when it was clear, to him, that those gazes should have been pointing in his direction. He should be treated like a king for all the evident virtues he possessed, and yet they were gawking at some stupid twerp on a bouncing stick planting seeds.

Tuffnut was chuckling next to his sister, a wicked, demented grin on his thin face, hunched back with a pile of rocks in his hand. "Hey, bet I can nail that stupid stick dead center." He whispered to his sister, tossing the rocks in his palm.

"You're on…" Ruffnut whispered back.

Tuffnut reeled his hand back ready to toss the rocks, catching the attention of little Fishlegs. The chubby boy gasped; he felt he should have said something or grabbed Tuffnut's hand to stop him before it was too late. It would have been the least that he owed Hiccup for never bothering to lend him a hand in the previous months when Snotlout and the twins beating him up. But looking over at Snotlout now, he realized he ran the risk of getting picked on, of being ridiculed like Hiccup was. Fishlegs was too timid, too sensitive to handle all that abuse that he put his own cousin through each and every day; it was the reason he never bothered to help Hiccup at all. This time was no different; the boy just covered his eyes and prepared for the worst.

The stone shot through the air and collided right with the main rotational gear the canister were attached to. The impact had managed to knock a few gears loose inside, causing the spring connected to the piston to go out of control. Hiccup was now bouncing wildly all over the field, desperately clinging on to the handlebars for fear of falling off. The bounces were now much stronger, each one taking Hiccup up at least ten feat in the air and rising. He was tearing the field apart, splattering crumbs of dirt everywhere, the Vikings shielding themselves from the onslaught of sprayed soil.

The now-dysfunctional planter was bouncing straight for the crowd of Vikings, who all quickly broke apart and ran for cover while Hiccup yelled and screamed for dear life. Grabbing onto the dispensers he accidentally caused them to activate, squirting out soil and water in large amounts all over the villagers. The pressure burst the nozzles on the dispensers, even breaking their restraints and sending them flying through the air. People screamed in panic and fled for shelter while everything quickly descended into chaos, but in the midst of his own distress, Hiccup could see the other kids down below. Astrid was still glaring at him, mocking him through her gaze alone, while Fishlegs just covered his head to try and avoid the mess. Snotlout and the twins, however, were on the ground rolling around and laughing their heads off, delighting in his torment. Hiccup could see the spare rocks in Tuffnut's hand while the weasel clenched his chest to keep himself from laughing so much: he was the culprit.

The planter bounced through the town, going so high it landed on the rooftops of multiple houses and crashed through to the inside. Upon landing, he'd bounce straight up and out of the house only to crash down again and break a new hole in. With some houses it crashed down right on the support beams causing them to topple over themselves. Three houses ended up suffering this fate, and the owners were none too happy, even when Hiccup apologized.

Once he descended once more, Hiccup felt a strong hand tug at his backside and easily wrench him away from the planter, now shooting off on its own. Looking back he could see his father's red beard and even redder face focused on the machine. With a toss of his weapon in the air and a single glance for aim, he hurled a double-edged axe towards the machine; the blade spun through the air and collided with the planter, anchoring right in its main pole and sending it to the ground in a bent and crumpled heap. Turning around to face the crowd he shouted:

"What in Thor's name is goin' on!?"

The crowd all just turned to glare at Hiccup, the weight of their hundreds of stares of fury crashing down on him like a boulder to the head. Hiccup panted for breath and gazed up at his father, and never had he seen the man so angry in his life. Veins were actually forming along the sides of his face and his cheeks were so red it would have made blood seem colorless. He was huffing through his nostrils like a dragon prepared to blast its fire, and Hiccup anticipated a very similar occurrence from the chief.

"Of course…" He said tiredly but with as much control as possible, but Hiccup could feel the maelstrom of anger just waiting to be unleashed. Stoick stormed off with Hiccup in tow, the boy's last glance being of the amused children behind him.

* * *

><p>The door of the Haddock household opened wide for Hiccup to be tossed down hardly onto the floor. Collapsing onto the wood, he ignored the flash of pain to look up at the angry grizzly bear of a man that was his father. He stood over Hiccup like a looming shadow, yet Hiccup could see the flash of anger in his seemingly glowing eyes of rage and shame. Hiccup cowered back slightly in the face of his, not his father at this moment, but his chief, backing along the floor with eyes widened with fear.<p>

To say Stoick was utterly enraged was the understatement of perhaps the millennium; the man was ready to explode in a cataclysmic burst of fire and engulf the entire island. Hiccup had blatantly disobeyed his orders to do his assigned work in the forge and instead had created another one of those miserable machines of his, and once again caused trouble with it. If Hiccup was half as smart as he thought he was, then surely he would have been able to see the consequences of his actions. He knew the boy was naïve, even reckless, but this counted as outright stupidity. This boy in front of him was clearly a threat to himself and to others, and for a moment Stoick wondered if this child with all his dangerous thoughts would not be satisfied until the entire island would be destroyed. For his own sake, the boy had better have had a good explanation for his dangerous behavior, the chief thought.

"Well, out with it…!" Stoick snapped.

Hiccup could not bring himself to look at his father, too scared to think, to move, to even breathe. He kept his gaze locked on the floor and stayed completely silent, wishing he could just vanish completely. Silence was not the answer Stoick was expecting though, sadly.

"Do you enjoy making a fool of me?" Stoick asked, a furious growl in his tone. "Defying my orders left and right? Tarnishin' our name with your childish lunacy? What have I done to make you ignore my every word?" Again, Hiccup did not speak; really, he did not know what he could say.

"Let me tell you somethin', boy. When I was your age, I had much greater discipline; I obeyed my father to the letter, followed his every word, he told me to smack someone in the face, I said 'how hard?'" Stoick ranted, going on and on about his perfect childhood; Hiccup had to hold himself back with all his might to keep himself from groaning. It was, after all, only about the twentieth time this month he had heard it. "I never questioned him, even his most nonsensical commands, and it was because of that loyalty that I was able to win his respect and become one of the greatest warriors this island has ever seen. You, on the other hand, clearly know nothing of obedience and in turn you continue to disappoint me. Tell me, Hiccup, what will it take for you to understand that neither I nor this tribe will not accept failure?"

Hiccup did understand, it was one of the greatest driving forces behind his actions, what fueled his thoughts while building both the arrow launcher and the planter. He had to make sure everything was perfect, that nothing could possibly go wrong, and he was willing to accept the overwhelming pressure that came with it. To him his father's dedication to his grandfather was nothing short of blind loyalty, doing something that in all common sense you knew was ludicrous, so he'd tried to handle things differently. He wanted to prove that things could be done even if it wasn't in the Viking way, that there was nothing wrong with doing things differently and failure was only avoided by following one path. That belief that he could compensate for his weakness in this manner, still drove him, even now as he dared to gaze partly at his father.

"I-I tried to help. It… it was working..." Hiccup squeaked.

Stoick's slight glance at him prodded him to continue, and with a strong gulp, he did. "It was s-supposed to p-p-plant seeds faster, and it… it was w-working… But then Tuffnut…" His fingers dug into the wood in anger at the dimwitted bully's act of sabotage. "He threw a r-rock at it, and that's wha-"

"AGAIN with this!? Blaming others for your mistakes?" Stoick shouted. "I know for a fact I raised you better than that, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III! This selfish behavior of yours is completely unacceptable and I will stand for it no longer!"

There it was again; he was making himself bleed for this entire village, for this man in particular, and someone was calling him selfish. The fact that Snotlout and the twins could blame anything on him and get away with it scot-free was beside the point. Here his chief was now, insulting all his efforts, throwing them onto the ground just as he did with him and spitting on them. Now it was Hiccup's turn to be angry; never mind how it ended with Astrid, he wasn't going to let anyone get away with it. He was a human just like these people and he deserved to be treated fairly like they were.

"No… no, you… you don't get to say that. Not you, not after everything I've done!" He growled.

"And just what _have_ you done? Making a mess of the village, injuring people and destroying their homes, ruining our food supply and neglecting your duties! You'd shame me further by saying this was all done on my part, you'd make this my burden to bear?" Stoick asked.

"It's not always about you! I'm trying to help everyone and for some reason it's never good enough!" He shouted.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Stoick roared back. "I am your chief, and you will show me proper respect!"

"So just being a chief means people have to respect you, or else? Does that mean people are gonna start respecting me once I'm old enough and I'm chief, as opposed to now when I'm trying to do what I can to make Berk better and I'm getting yelled at and bullied by everybody for it?" Hiccup asked.

Stoick scoffed and raised himself back up to stare down at his son, putting on that unseen cloak of arrogant authority that only the truly humble like Hiccup could see. "That day is quite far off, boy – your actions have clearly proven that the honor of being chief is one you are far less than deserving of."

"Who even cares? Dad, I don't want to be chief!"

There, he said it, the thing he had been thinking of for the longest time. Hiccup had no intention of wasting his life sitting in some seat of power and letting it corrupt him to the point where he held himself so highly the earth could no longer be seen. He'd wanted to tell his father for the longest time that he was no leader and had no intention of being so to a bunch of jerks that openly mocked him daily either, and now it was out there. He felt bad that his father might be disappointed, he knew it was all the man could hope for him, but he wanted to live his own life and not be someone else's puppet. It took all the courage he had to muster to speak it as well, and Hiccup, though he held his stance, quickly felt the energy in his body running low, pouring his soul out into the words to increase their impact.

Stoick got the full force of it, though; he was floored, shocked beyond words that Hiccup wanted nothing to do with being chief, perhaps one of the greatest privileges a Viking could receive next to killing dragons. Hiccup probably didn't want anything to do with that either – it was aggravating to the chief, his son stepping on tradition, denouncing such honors so easily. Right then and there, he felt like slapping the child in the face, and could feel the muscles in his arm tense in preparation to do so. Such a blow would send the child flying across the living room, but he didn't care; he raised his arm up ready to deliver the blow, and Hiccup winced upon noticing.

But his words beat his reflexes. "You have no right… you can't just throw it away. This is your birthright, Hiccup! It's not a matter of choice!"

"Yes it is! You said it's my birthright so it should be mine to do whatever I want with it! You can just give it to someone else; you and I both know practically everyone else here is better suited for the job!" Hiccup shouted.

"So you'd throw it onto someone else, ignoring your responsibility!? This isn't something you can just walk away from, you cannot just rid yourself of your duties whenever you feel like it! A chief does not-"

"That's all you ever talk about, you don't care about anything else, not even me!" Hiccup countered, feeling his voice starting to break. "I do everything I can think of to try and make up for the way I was born. If I could change the way I look I would, but I can't, I just can't dad!"

"And now more excuses! Bah, disgraceful!" Stoick scoffed raising his hands up in defeat. "A chief does not get to complain about the unfairness of the world, he must seize justice with his own hands!"

"Well, I'm not-"

"A chief's duty is to his people, he must cast aside his own needs for theirs!"

"But-"

"A chief must be an example for his people, he must be unyielding, never showing weakness of any kind so that they will not succumb to hardship!"

"Will you please just-"

"A chief must be prepared to bear any pain for his people, protect them, be willing to pay any cost for them!"

"Can you let me-"

"You are going to be chief, and you are going to accept it gratefully! You are going to learn to act like a real Viking and cease this… this… being you!" Stoick ended finally, gesturing his hands out to signify his whole self, personality, interests, and all. "No more inventions, no more drawing, no more playing and gallivanting off doing whatever it is you do behind our backs, no more-"

"No more mistakes?" Hiccup said, outside of his father's knowledge repeating the very words he had used in his conversation with Gobber weeks earlier.

"Exactly… It's become obvious I haven't been training you hard enough and you've been getting' lazy because of all this freedom. That stops here and now: you'll be in the ring, ten hours a day, doing training that I've approved of." Stoick said, moving over to the fireplace and grabbing the war hammer that he had placed upon the mantle. He placed the object into Hiccup's hands, setting it upright when the boy teetered over from the weight of it. "I'm not about to let you throw our legacy aside because of your childish whims. You're a runt now, but when I'm done you will be the ultimate dragon slayer – beasts and men will cower before you, you will be the strongest of them all. You will be a real Viking."

Hiccup just stared straight up at his father for the first time their argument had begun, and it was clear that Stoick had no intention of going back on his word. The man had predicted that his child would be the strongest of them all, even as Hiccup lay there, barely breathing as an infant, so small it was questionable whether or not he would live. Valka certainly had her doubts, especially with the fact that he was born premature and she had been the one to hold him. But Stoick knew otherwise, he knew he would be the father of the greatest warrior the world had ever seen, he expected no less. Even now that that vision had become blurred with the pitiful growth his son had displayed, he still kept the image in his head. This was the destiny his son was meant to have, he was convinced of that.

Hiccup, on the other hand, wasn't; he just turned to look at the weapon in his hand, then to the axe secured in his father's belt. If his father had his way, then he would grow up to wield these same weapons coated in dragon's blood. He saw a glimpse of himself as an older man, one built just like his father, with a beard of auburn, muscles as hard as stone and a face riddled with scars, his eyes dulled from a life of carnage. He was standing in the cove where he and Toothless always met, under a sky filled with storm clouds, darkening the land below. There were scorch marks on the ground, and even some on his body, yet he felt no pain from them whatsoever. He looked around for any sign of Toothless, already being given a bad feeling from the stains of blood on his adult-sized tunic.

He turned around and there he saw the dragon, a sight that induced bile within his throat. There, lying in a pool of blood, limbs twisted and torn, wings shredded apart, was the young dragon. His face was frozen in mid-roar, his jaws opened wide and his slitted eyes still opened wide, trapped in an eternal final moment. Blood cascaded down his pink flesh, many of his scales having been removed, and his tailfin had been torn to pieces, one ripped clean off. He felt sick at the sight, trying to at least picture any other dragon there in his friend's place, but there remained the image of a dead Night Fury, its carcass completely mutilated. And he could hear the Vikings cheers of glory to his name, this bloodshed being a cause for celebration to those _animals_.

No amount of glory, or respect, was worth the life of his best friend. Hiccup was no dragon killer, and if that was what it took to be respected, if that was what served as the source of compassion to these people, then let he be known as 'Hiccup the Useless.' He gazed at his father hardly, and dropped the weapon to the round, letting it fall to the floor with a hard thud.

This time there was no restraint, Stoick's arm came down and gave Hiccup a heavy smack to the face with his giant hand, launching the yelping boy towards the stairs with his head hitting the bottommost step. Hiccup felt a trickle of blood run down the back of his head and gazed fearfully up at his father, shocked that he would hit him. Stoick was breathing hard, the rage ready to burst out in full at last.

"Why do the gods spite me!? WHY DID I HAVE SUCH A USELESS, IDIOT CHILD!?"

Hiccup let the restraints break loose as well, letting the tears fall down like tiny waterfalls. Stoick was utterly disgusted at the sight, and turned to face the door, ready to just get away from his difficult child and assess the damage his stupid contraption had caused. Just as he was about to open the door, though…

"Why…" Hiccup asked in tears. "Why did mom have to go away… why'd she have to die?" He whispered so quietly with rage and pain no child should ever have carried within them.

"WHY COULDN'T IT HAVE BEEN YOU!?"

Stoick's eyes were wide open with devastation, the horrible question echoing throughout both the walls of the house and his mind. His own child had just wished for his death out of pain and anger, feelings he had obviously placed within him. He felt his heart shatter into pieces just as it had when Valka was taken to her doom that fateful night, and he could imagine her spirit glaring in shame down at him, screaming in rage just as Hiccup had for his callousness. He had sworn he would protect their child and here he had done the complete opposite, he had torn the remainder of their family apart. He turned around to face Hiccup, but the child was gone, small puddles of blood and tears all that remained of him.

Hiccup had already run outside, crying his eyes out rushing through the rain that had been falling on the island for most likely the whole duration of their fight. He rushed to the forge, to lock himself in his little workspace and never come out again. This time he didn't care about the hurt he might have inflicted, he was done with being charitable towards such ungrateful people. This time, he was the one who would get to cause hurt with his words, this time he could be the one who broke someone's heart, and in his father's case, he hoped it _burned_. He finally got to the forge and just locked the door behind him, then just huddling into the corner and bawling his eyes out. Hiccup had planned on staying there for the whole night, possibly for a few days, but fate would not have it.

At that moment, he heard a loud sound from behind the walls. A loud, shrieking roar.

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><p><strong>FYI, I don't know if the idea for the planter came from some subconscious memory. I feel like I just invented it right on the spot. Which is what I do for most of these conversations, so yeah, I'm willing to just roll with it.<strong>

**Anyways for those that are getting sad, don't worry! Next chapter we finally start getting somewhere. As the title and summary suggest, I am not writing this just to tell a 'woe is Hiccup' story – there'd be no HicTooth fluff if that were the case. And for those that might be hoping for a little Hiccstrid in this or the re-write, don't. You want to read some Hiccstrid, go somewhere else – there are literally thousands of those on this site. And just as many that have Astrid as your main character, for all her fans out there.**

**Anyways, review, favorite, follow! Like I said, next chapter's where we wrap this up and get the ball rolling. And it will definitely be on time.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, sorry for the wait – I know I said I would put these up every Saturday and yet here I am putting this one up the day after. I might end up changing that policy to updating every second Saturday or so, or at least until I get the chapter up. I'm starting to feel a bit burned out after forcing myself to update so frequently and I want this to be a quality product. I feel like my work is starting to suffer from that regard and the last thing I want is to deliver some half-baked read.**

**Now, as for noticeable reviews.**

**NinjaRiderWriter: Thank you for the really kind words, yours has to be the lengthiest review I have ever seen. In fact I find myself reading it over and over. Seriously people, read this guy's review, particularly the first paragraph. If I haven't done a good job of defending my work, then he will – I think he words it better than I do.**

**Madhuntr: Should I be flattered or offended by your comment? I'm glad you found this relatable and you love it, but please refrain from calling it stupid or anything of the like. If you're going to critique my work, I'd at least like a reason why. I'm not particularly upset; really, I'm a bit confused at where your going with that comment, but refrain from just insulting it like that in the future if you are to comment again.**

**Finally, from reading comments and PMs, let me remind people that this is NOT going to be a Hiccup and Astrid romance fic. They may have little moments in the future, but it's not going to be romantically implied, unless you want to interpret it that way because you're crazy about pairings. Hiccup will not be hooking up with Heather or any OCs either. I know the genre for this fic is meant to be Adventure and Fantasy, but as some of you might have noticed, I'm really including all genres in this, save for romance. I am not a romance writer and I don't plan to be. Again, there are thousands of HxA love fics on this site, and this will not be one of them.**

**Now then, a bit of forewarning that this chapter is gonna get pretty intense. This is because it marks one of the major plot points in the story. Enjoy if you can, because this is where the angst really cranks up.**

**All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.**

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><p>Though the night sky was still overcast with an abundance of heavy clouds, small holes were broken in the bank, allowing small glimpses at the starry view behind. The possibility of a second shower upon the island was high, yet all the animals were safely tucked away in their holes and burrows. The rain had done wonders for the forest, nourishing the roots of the plants that had gone weeks without water. Thick aromas of wet pine and moss filled the air, carried on the soft breeze that wafted through the trees and shook small droplets from the leaves and branches. All the woodland was filled with a sense of calm, still slumbering away into the late hour.<p>

The cove was no different, all still in the aftermath of the storm, the stars' light reflected clearly upon the surface of the pond. Aside from the sound of a chirping cricket here and there, it was completely silent. This allowed for a peaceful night's sleep for the little dragon hidden concealed in the darkness of a small cave imbedded in the rock. Toothless laid with his head atop his paws, curled in on himself, his body slowly rising and falling with his slow, easy breathing; the huddled black mass that was his body blended with the shadows inside the cave, making him completely imperceptible to any that might have looked in. Toothless had made out the cavern to be a safe hiding spot when he had first arrived, and as tonight had proved, a good protection against the elements. A wet dragon head was incapable of igniting the internal gases needed for fire breath were he to encounter any battle-hungry humans. Not that he saw any humans here besides Hiccup, but the little Night Fury decided not to take his chances.

Toothless continued to sleep away, letting the fresh smells of rain and nature blend together, until another aroma caught his attention. The dragon scrunched his nostrils in discomfort from the unpleasant mixture of the previous scent combined with this new one. Not that it was unpleasant, the young Night Fury had smelled this scent before; it was one that should have been familiar to all dragons, their affinity with the connecting element strong. It was a scent of wood smoke, something burning, and not just wood, but also metal and stone.

Something was on fire.

Snorting out to eject the scent from his nostrils, Toothless awoke shaking his head and wiping his nose with his paw. He stood and stretched his body out, the snapping of his bones unheard over the loud yawn from his open jaws. He stepped out into the open with his paws sloshing upon the damp, low-cut grass with every step, feeling the small beads of moss stick onto his scaly paws. With his head pointed to the sky he sniffed around for the source of the smoke, turning in all directions in his search. He opened his eyes once he had fixed onto the location, both sight and smell telling him that the smoke was coming from Berk.

In the direction of the human village there were large, thick pillars of smoke reaching up into the air and dwarfing the trees just above the cove and blocking out the stars. The distant sounds of roaring soon caught Toothless's ears, perking him up into a fully alert state. A mighty gust blew from behind him and he turned his attention up to catch a glimpse of a Monstrous Nightmare flying towards the human village. Soon the larger dragon's roars were intermingled with the furious war cries of the Vikings. It didn't take a Night Fury to know what was going on… the dragons were attacking the village to gather food once again.

Hiccup was in danger, the gravity of that realization triggering a screech of fear from Toothless, his eyes now in panicked slits. The little Night Fury had always worried whenever Hiccup went back to his village, always feared that something bad would happen there. Hiccup would try as he might when Toothless whined and begged every day when the boy tried to leave to convince him it was safe but he could never be consoled; the Viking Hiccup called his sire had carried in his voice that day they met a coldness within it. With his instincts and greater intelligence, Toothless had a way of sensing that underlying intent or emotion in other creatures and could discern their true nature quickly after. The coldness he sensed in Hiccup's sire was one carried throughout the village, a savagery that he had seen Hiccup to be the target of every time the boy came with bruises and cuts splayed out upon his little body. The other humans had been cruel to him, and the raiding dragons would be no different; they would not exercise restraint because he was a child. Stealth and discretion tossed aside, Toothless had to get to that village – Hiccup would be killed if he didn't.

With a dash and a great leap, Toothless latched himself onto the cliff, scrambling with his claws and slashing apart the rock. The Night Fury stumbled and slipped multiple times, each second of delay passing blurring his ability to think clearly and remember he could simply fly his way out. He flapped his wings to accelerate his climb and soon his claws hooked onto the edge of the cove. Toothless pulled himself out at last and could now see the blazing orange glow breaking through the forest, coming from the village now burning from the dragon's attacks. Toothless let out a horrified roar that could only be interpreted as the boy's name, calling out in the hopes his boy could hear him. If anything happened to his Hiccup, the little dragon was not sure what he'd do, all he knew is that it would be a loss he wouldn't be able to take.

Bounding through the forest at top speed, Toothless set off, flapping his wings to push him forward even faster and even lift up into the air in short burst to avoid oncoming obstacles. He could only hope Hiccup was holding on somehow.

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><p>Hiccup could still hear the roar ringing in his ears and still feel the trembling of the wooden boards in its wake. The cry seemed to come directly from the side exit of his workplace, and Hiccup had a strong feeling that whatever had made it was still there. Cautiously as he could, the boy shuffled his way over to the door, bracing himself for whatever he might find on the other side. He kept his tiny fist pressed hard upon his chest to brace himself, taking hard breaths to calm his racing pulse but to no avail. Biting his lip, he grabbed onto the handle of the door and flung it open.<p>

There, standing inches away from him, was a furious-looking Monstrous Nightmare, growling and snarling with its fangs bared right at him. Hiccup's eyes widened in somewhat-controlled panic as he gazed upon the creature's slit eyes, feeling the heat of the gases exhaled out building in its throat in preparation for its attack. The Nightmare reared its head back and let loose a heavy stream of fire right at him; Hiccup managed to slam the door just in time before even a lick of flame could touch him. The flames collided with the door, bursting through the slats with a loud boom while Hiccup pressed his body against it as hard as he could and recoiling back from the force. Even after the fire had subsided, he held himself back with his arms stretched against the door, shaking uncontrollably at his near-death experience.

A few more minutes had passed until the shaking had reduced to a controllable level and Hiccup could get back on his feet again. He picked himself up and rushed out of his workspace to the main workbench of the forge, ricocheting off of the table to head outside. He stood just outside the side entrance and gasped in terror.

Every corner of the sky was filled with dragons, circling over the homes looking for their next prey, be it human or animal. Hiccup could see breeds of all kinds: Gronkles that hovered on their tiny, hummingbird-like wings, Nadders moving with grace and agility, Zipplebacks fighting between each of their pairs of heads for control, and Nightmares flapping their great wings practically itching for challenge. From above they let loose their fire blasts on each and every house in sight; currently there was not a one Hiccup could see that had evaded their fiery wrath. Some dragons had perched themselves upon the houses or landed on the ground and continued their assault, blasting buildings to pieces in a shower of flaming wood planks and splinters launching themselves off once bolas were thrown in their direction. They made their way towards the barns, the fields and the storehouses, locking on to the scent of fish and meat and promptly breaking through the roofs or doors to scoop up their prizes in their jaws and talons. A lucky few managed to escape and fly away or provide continued support; the others were knocked down either by bolas or from the massive boulders fired from the catapults lined on the perimeters of the island.

On the Vikings' side, they were charging forward in droves raising their weapons in the air, the intent to kill abundant in their voices and eyes. Anywhere they spotted a dragon, they closed in and started swinging wildly, bashing the winged reptiles' faces in with their maces and hammers or chopping off their heads with their swords and axes. They grounded dragons with their bolas and dogpiled atop of them to prevent any means of escape while one more came in to finish the job. All around, dragons' wings and tails were being sliced apart, limbs were being severed, even their horns and spikes were ripped out of their bodies. With each successful kill, the Vikings cheered in triumphant glory, but Hiccup could only look at the desecrated carcasses that they considered their rewards and feel completely sick to his stomach. Upon the watchtowers, several Vikings looked out to search for more dragons in the distance, alerting them to the troops down below. Everywhere the young boy looked, fire and stone, steel and claw clashed, and every confrontation ending in blood.

Hiccup's dead fix on the scenes of conflict were interrupted by a loud call of "Hiccup!" He turned around to see Gobber, glancing hardly at him while trying to multitask and fix a dented sword with his forge hammer attachment. Just out the window he could see numerous Vikings all lined up, antsy and fidgeting to get back into the action. Gobber already had a number of replacement weapons all lined up and ready to go on the table, but the picky, stubborn men and women insisted on only fighting with their ancestral weapons and heirlooms.

"What're you doin' here?" The smith asked. "Shouldn't you be up a' the Hall with the other women an' children?"

"Uh…" Hiccup was too drawn into the conflict to really respond. It was the first time he had ever really seen a dragon raid up close, or even at all. He was usually locked inside the house by his father, and there were times when the man had forgotten he was even in there. Stoick had probably thought it similar to the other times when Hiccup was sent to the Great Hall with the other women and children. Hiccup didn't really want to think about his father now, and he certainly didn't want to talk about the big fight he had with him to Gobber.

"Ah, nevur mind! Ya wanna be here, make yerself useful and get ta sharpenin' some swords!" Gobber yelled, clearly rushed by the swarm of immediate customers. He tossed Hiccup a large sword, only for the young boy to topple over at the weight of the dulled blade.

Hiccup struggled to pick himself back up while still hefting the sword in both his hands. He had to let the tip fall to the ground while holding onto the doorway for support. "B-But these weapons are too heavy for me, and I still can't use the grinding wheel by myself yet!"

"So figure it out! Don' know if ya noticed but this ain't the time ta get cold feet!" Gobber yelled impatiently.

"C-Can't I just… sweep up the shop like always?" Hiccup asked.

"I'm in the middle o' rush hour here! Clearin' out dust ain't gonna clear out these whinin' numbskulls!" The Vikings in line all cried out in protest at Gobber's insult while he gestured to them, but the crippled smith only grew more irritated. "Ah, quit yur gripin! A hundred years or a hundred minutes, an axe is an axe!"

"Uh…" Hiccup mumbled backing away. "Maybe I should just… head over to the Great Hall…"

Gobber had been dumbstruck enough to drop what he was working on right there and just stare at the young boy. Hiccup felt highly uncomfortable being the center of attention in the midst of the growing chaos and kept his own eyes on the floor. "So lemme get this straight – you plan on running thru hundreds of fire-breathin' dragons an' Vikings an run tha risk o' getting' carried off an' eaten ta get ta tha Great Hall?"

"Well… I'm a good runner." Hiccup said.

"Forget it! The second you step out there you'll be a sliced, char-broiled appetizer!" Gobber shouted. "An' as delighted as the dragons would be a tha', I highly doubt yur father'd want you acting so recklessly, so, so… Hiccup-y!"

Hiccup grimaced; of course his father wouldn't want to act like himself and get ideas of his own. Unless he was acting like how his father wanted him to, Hiccup was doing something wrong. He might have taken offense at how his natural behavior was synonymous with idiocy, but he was too angry at his father to care. He hardly noticed when a dagger had smacked him in the forehead, but it did snap him into attention enough to catch the falling blade as he held it in his hand.

"If ya can't handle the swords, then take care of the daggers; I'm sure even you can't screw tha' up." Gobber said returning to work. "Course, yuv proven people wrong before."

"But, I can't-" Hiccup started.

"Look, one day yur gonna be out there fightin' dragons along wit' the others out there, an' by then yu won' have time ta wonder if yur ready or not! You wanna be called 'Hiccup the Useless' for the rest of your life!?" He angrily shouted at Hiccup, who fell back in shock at his mentor's rare tone of aggravation.

"Either help me or move aside," was all he said.

In the past, such tones would force Hiccup into a submissive state of obedience so as to avoid further wrath from the others. Force was really the only thing Vikings could use that would spur him into attention, and Hiccup wondered if that might have been the driving force behind their cruelty. The more he tightened his grip on the blade in thought about it, the more he realized that couldn't be the case: when people like Snotlout or his uncle spoke to him using such harsh words and actions, too harsh to be considered strict in the name of kindness, it was for their own sick amusement. Next to this sadistic arrogance they all shared, the creatures they considered unholy demons couldn't have been nearly as horrible. Toothless was supposedly the most vicious dragon of them all and he was Hiccup's best friend, really his only friend. The small weapon he stared down at, held in his hand was no different from the larger-scale models shoved into his hands by Gobber and his father, similarly created for the purpose of robbing life from dragons like him. And even if he had used the weapon for its designed intent and successfully killed a dragon, the chance that others would accept him was still very slim. It was pointless, downright stupid, to sacrifice an already-existing friendship for only the slightest possibility of acknowledgement from others that never liked him to begin with. This life was not the kind he wanted – he would earn respect and find happiness in this tribe some other way.

Hiccup looked up and gave a hard, upset glare to the smith, who now had returned to work and paid no mind to the problematic apprentice. The boy's hands had gripped the blade so hard it had now cut into his skin, sending trickles of blood down onto the ground.

"Fine…" He said. Gobber had finally looked up by now and noticed that Hiccup had already vanished, ran out the doorway. He wanted to run out and chase after the boy and give him a proper scolding but he had plenty of other worries on his plate at the moment. He exasperatedly shook his head and returned to his work.

"Let's see if yur luck holds out, kid…" He mumbled.

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><p>Hiccup was now bolting through the village, weaving past multiple Vikings by moving beside them or sliding under their legs. It was easy enough to move past their enlarged forms, while it was pure luck that he could evade the attacking dragons. He had to cover his head to avoid the rains of fiery wood and stray stones, and narrowly managed to recoil back when oversized chunks were headed his way. The constant screams of aggravation asking him what he was doing out or telling him to 'get inside' or just 'get lost' were mostly ignored while the boy continued to run for his life. Hiccup was moving at his top speed now, zipping past and even in-between most of the houses to reach the Great Hall.<p>

This was the truth of his life, this was probably how it was going to be for the remainder of his days on Midgard. Just running past his fellow tribesmen just trying not to get in the way, just narrowly avoiding losing his life while others fought for the right to keep theirs. He did believe in his inventions and wanted others to see their value, but there had always been times when he wished he could have the chance to fight like they did. Not as a dragon slayer, but as a hero – someone who fought for what was right and protected those that were being wrongfully punished and could not protect themselves. He would raise his sword in defense of the helpless and fight for what was right. Hiccup couldn't help but notice the desperate way the dragons fought, looking at the sense of fear in each of their eyes. Perhaps it was the dragons that needed that protection; maybe he could find some way to help humans see that dragons weren't so bad, that they could be friends like Toothless. Maybe he could be a hero to them…

His thoughts and running were interrupted when he felt a hard tug on the back of his shirt. For a moment he expected to see his father and readied himself for yet another bout of screams to the face. Cracking one eye open, he saw it was not his father, but his uncle Spitelout, looking at him with an emotionless glare. Hiccup's eyes widened in nervous surprise – honestly, this felt a lot worse than his father.

"What are you doin' out here, boy?" His uncle asked rather coldly, even for him.

Hiccup gulped his fear down rather audibly; looking at his uncle now, he got that sense of distrust and foreboding more so than any of the other Vikings on the island. That ominous feeling was at its peak right now with the man that arguably was a member of his own family. "…I-I was… I was going to the Great Hall."

"Right now? You're telling me you didn't hear the signal horn blow for the dragons?" He scoffed. "Unbelievable, it seems yur ears are as useless as the rest of you."

Hiccup wanted to protest and say he was not useless and he was sick of people calling him as such, but the words only died on his tongue. Really, he wasn't even sure how he had mustered up the courage to talk back to Astrid and his father, even when they had called him selfish in total disregard to his efforts. Those moments seemed so completely out of character for him, the old him merely shrugging the comments off as best as he could and stuffing away the hurt by locking it in a chest in his heart. Right now, that seemed to be the best course of action.

"P-please… just l-let me go and I-I-I'll head off to the Great Hall… I-I won't get in your way." He stuttered.

"Oh, I assure you, you won't... you won't be getting' in anyone's way anymore." Spitelout spat.

"Enough beatin' around the bush, Spitelout, let's jest get this over with!" A voice cried out from behind them.

Spitelout and Hiccup turned and noticed several other Vikings walk up toward them, all with glares as cold as the one on his uncle's face. Hiccup recognized them all as the fathers of the other children: Arnbjorn Hofferson, father of Astrid, with a blond mustache and thin beard alongside the edges of his face, Tuffnut and Ruffnut's father with braided dirty-blond hair like theirs, and even Fishlegs' father, rather portly like his son was turning out to be. For some reason they had all just decided to take a break from the onslaught of violence still raging around them, and by all appearances it looked as if they weren't even noticing it.

"I assure ye, Arnbjorn, no one wants to be done with this more than I, but it seems only appropriate that we leave my… _nephew_… with a few parting words." On the word 'nephew' he spat out with more disgust than if he had ingested a full tankard of yak spit and dragon dung mixed together. The vile word felt like acid on his tongue, only worsened by the fact in that such a weak child could actually be his kin, by marriage or blood.

"Well, get to it; hard to believe as it is, someone might have a problem with what we're up to." The father of the twins cried out, an ironic chuckle in his tone.

Hiccup stayed silent while all the adults laughed out loud and just continued to walk off, away from the main action and towards a more isolated part of the village. The boy looked back and saw most of the others still engaged in combat, latching on to the tails of the dragons and tossing them away or whacking the daylights out of them. Their battle-cries still echoed out even as their visages faded behind the heated glow of the fires, and Hiccup turned his attention to the path ahead. The group of Viking fathers all stopped in front of a shed that had a few extra weapons stored inside but had otherwise remained empty. The shed appeared to be old and falling apart, already with a few loose and fallen-out boards and holes in the roof from years of decay. He remembered his father had ordered the shed cleared out when he realized it was a disadvantageous place to hold their armaments since it was an easy target for the dragons to strike. With no weapons they would not only be defenseless against the dragons, but also against any other armies that might try to attack them and conquer Berk.

Spitelout suddenly released Hiccup from his grasp, only to seize him up again by grabbing his tiny wrist and raising up the boy to dangle in front of his face. "Tell me boy, why do you think you're here?"

Hiccup could by all means provide no answer to that question, regardless of whether or not it came completely out of nowhere as it did. People were risking life and limb and here his uncle was asking him insightful questions like this? Instead of helping his ailing fellow tribesman who by now had suffered from more than a few burns and injuries? He didn't even think Vikings could get insightful for that matter, the biggest questions they ever asked was regarding what to punch next or how long until they cleared out the dragons. If his uncle was wondering why was he here with them wondering for the life of him what was going on and not at the Great Hall just praying for it all to be over… well, he just didn't know.

"I asked you a question, boy…" Spitelout muttered in a dangerously low voice. "Now speak. Why do you think yur here?"

"I-I don't know…" Hiccup whispered, at this moment quite frightened.

Spitelout only smirked coldly. "Well… to be perfectly honest, neither do we." Hiccup cocked an eyebrow in confusion, puzzled to high Asgard by his uncle's words. "You don't seem to have any kind of redeeming qualities, none of the bravery and fortitude that those like my boy and I have. I mean look at you – you're weak, you're cowardly, you're whiny, foolish, an outright nuisance. Odin knows what we did to deserve such punishment."

Spitelout had stated it all in a manner-of fact tone that showed how he regarded all this as a manner of truth. Hiccup could put aside the insults but to hear that he considered the hateful and brutal mockery he and Snotlout applied a sign of bravery; Hiccup had no words for how outrageous it was. Just what was bravery to these people, or virtue and honor?

"And ta think yur father had such high hopes when you were born…" Hiccup gasped at these words, alerted to the possibility that Spitelout might have heard the argument between them hours earlier.

"Obviously his faith was misplaced!" Arnbjorn spat, and all the other men guffawed arrogantly.

"Or simply mistaken." Spitelout continued in his icy cold tone that could make the most devastating of winter frosts on Berk seem like a tropical vacation on a hot summer's day. "You came before your ordained time, frail and on the verge of death, yet he dared to believe you would survive. How foolish he was, to see worth in something that was worthless, value in something he should have just tossed into the ocean to give the sharks a scrap ta chew upon!"

With shuddered breaths and eyes dangerously close to crying from his uncle's words, Hiccup muttered out. "Why? W-Why are you saying all this…?"

"Bah," Arnbjorn spat. "Shames himself and us further with every word. My Astrid better have been spared from whatever disease this fishbone might be carrying. Couldn't get her away from him any sooner!"

"If you're going ta weep, go ahead; no one here thinks less of you than they already do!" The men cackled out loud again, obviously enjoying the little runt squirm in sadness and fear, feeding off of it to fuel their bigotry even further. Hiccup tried to look away, not giving these beasts the satisfaction of seeing him weep, just as he had denied Snotlout and the twins the same in weeks past. His efforts were in vain when Spitelout grabbed his chin and jerked the boy's head to face him, taking a good look at his reddened eyes about ready to tip over like a goblet with just as good an amount of tears.

"Just look at you, boy, just as pathetic 'n gutless as yur mother was." Spitelout sneered while the boy's eyes widened in angered shock. "A curse that spineless witch placed upon us, and my brother would dare to sully the glory of Berk and its people by making you its chief?"

"Let dragons tear out my limbs 'n devour my guts 'fore the wretched day comes when I pledge loyalty ta this weakling!" The Thorston Viking cried.

"A disgrace to Berk and all Vikings, no sane man would view him as a leader!" Cried the Ingerman.

"Idiot brat and his ludicrous ideas would bring about our doom long before the beasts even get the chance. That woman o' Stoick's plagues us even in death!" Arnbjorn shouted.

"Tell us now, All-Father, have we not been faithful to you!?" Spitelout shouted to the heavens, his glimses to the kingdom of Valhalla blocked by the smoke rising from the burning houses. He raised Hiccup up to the sky, squeezing hardly upon his wrist enough to crush the thin bone barely protected inside. "We have always followed in your example and taken the path of righteousness, we slay the foul demons that stain the realm of Midgard and carried ourselves with strength and honor! How is it that we have displeased you to such a degree that you would allow this pitiful excuse for a youth to be born!?" With no answer, Spitelout scoffed and shook his head, bringing Hiccup back down and opening the door to the shed. The door creaked on its hinges, worn out and rusted, ready to break apart but stubbornly hanging on just as the Vikings who constructed it would. "Never mind, the time has now come. I, Spitelout Jorgenson, will now correct the mistakes of both the Gods and my brother."

With a hearty cheer from the others, Hiccup broke out of his horrified, emotionally wounded trance and turned back to his uncle. "W-What are you doing?"

Spitelout sneered his darkest, most evil-looking sneer, and it sent chills down Hiccup's spine and formed goose bumps on every inch of his skin. In the boy's eyes, his uncle disappeared only to be replaced with the fiery giant he saw in his dreams, the one chanting for destruction. Hiccup was staring into the eyes of the devil that had taken residence in his uncle's soul, seeing the emptiness and darkness of the apparition with flames that slowly lost their light and their color, and soon turned to a ghoulish black.

"What should have been done… SEVEN YEARS AGO!"

With all his might, Spitelout threw Hiccup into the old shed, reeling his arm back and tossing the boy straight inside as if he was a bola meant to ensnare a dragon. Hiccup crashed onto the floor and slammed into the wall, feeling his chest and arms throb with soreness from the impact. Just recovering he heard the door slam and lock behind him, and realized he was now trapped inside. He rushed to the door as quickly as he could and banged on it repeatedly, screaming out for his uncle to release him while placing every ounce of his might into forcing the door open. As expected, his pitiful strength was not enough to even budge the failing door, but that did not stop him from trying.

Spitelout, meanwhile, roared out into the night sky and drew his sword, drawing the attention of any roaming dragons. He managed to snag the attention of a roaming Deadly Nadder, the creature balefully glaring down on him with slits full of hatred. The dragon zoomed down and screeched at him, preparing its fire and unleashing it in a focused stream. Spitelout and the others jumped out of the way and let the fire collide with the shed, setting it alight in flames. The fire tore away at the wood, turning it black and rendering it to ash in mere seconds. The four Vikings chuckled looking at the fire that would soon end the life of the useless boy, and ran back to join the others in combat, their dark deed having been accomplished.

Hiccup had jumped back at the blast of fire that hit the wood and backed away as quickly as he could to get away from the approaching fire. A useless attempt as the fire soon spread out everywhere and covered every inch of the house until the entire shed was alight with flames. He looked around for any means of escape but only found a gathering of blazes in every direction, from the floor and the walls, cornering him and approaching with the ferocity of a wolf pack. Hiccup was beginning to sweat from the intense heat, the beads of moisture running down his face though his skin quickly dried afterward; sweltering, burning like the heat of the forge multiplied a hundred times, his skin received small burns that quickly deepened, dying his pale skin a harmful reddish black. Hiccup could compare the burns to the touch of molten steel, a searing wound quickly intensifying in pain. The light of the fire stung in his eyes, and he squinted so as to avoid the harmful light, though it still seemed through, with embers flaking upon his eyeballs. The black smoke rising from within the house was already reaching up into his throat and he coughed violently, only for more smoke to enter. The smoke covered his view but only caused further harm to his eyes, irritating the liquid inside.

"Help," He croaked. "Somebody, help!" Over and over he repeated.

No one could hear him over the roar of the flames, or the crashing of the support beams from above. He tried to call out for help again regardless, but the smoke only entered his lungs once more and he coughed out, the air quickly evaporating. If the heat of the flames didn't cremate his little body, no doubt the smoke would choke him to death. He moved back to a corner of the building to avoid any more falling debris and peeked out through a hole in the wall, hoping to see maybe someone having noticed and try to help him.

He managed to see someone – the other children, looking out from the door of the Great Hall. Astrid was looking… surprised, not shocked. Snotlout and the others were smiling and laughing, no doubt his plight was amusing to them, while Fishlegs was deliberately trying with all his might to turn away. Hiccup stared at them for a few good seconds until screaming out to them; they had to see him, their expressions told as such. To his horrified shock, the children all turned away, Astrid not even needing any encouragement from the nonchalant Snotlout. They all just paid it no mind and returned to the Great Hall to wait out the attack, just preferring to ignore a desperate plea for help as if it had never been needed.

Even after they were gone, Hiccup still looked at the doors after them, only turning away a few long moments after the doors had been shut. He turned back and slid upon the burning wooden wall, horrified by what had just happened. They had clearly seen him in danger and they just left him to die, Snotlout and the twins had even laughed at him. Spitelout called such behavior bravery and righteousness, and still would because someone like him was not even worth saving. He was going to die, and his end would fill his 'people' with nothing but happiness. They would cheer in celebration and throw parties with games, drink and merriment, no emotion felt over his departure. No tenderness to give, contests would be held over who could throw an axe dead center into his face or who could come up with the greatest insult. He had given everything he had to this village, seeking its betterment; sure he also wanted acceptance, but wasn't that only fair? For his efforts to be repaid in this…

The heat was now getting to him, Hiccup could feel a severe headache seeping into his brain and gripping at it like a vice. The room was spinning, dizziness quickly overtaking him, delirium starting to pass into his psyche. The sharp entrails of flame began to blur, the crackling of burning wood fading out, being replaced with whispers of the past. The Berkians' voices, repeating over and over, while the fading flames took their forms, appearing as glowing specters before him:

"'_Sorry' doesn't make up for the fact that you made a mess of everything!"_

"_You can't do anything right, Hiccup the Useless!"_

"_You really are nothing but trouble!"_

"_You're a disgrace ta Berk, to all Vikings!" _

"_What I expect is a worthwhile son…"_

"_You're such a pest…"_

"…_Even you can't screw tha' up!"_

"…_Acting like a spoiled brat!"_

"_No one should havetae waste time on a useless weakling like you!"_

"_WHY DID I HAVE SUCH A USELESS, IDIOT CHILD!?"_

Stop, he just wanted it to stop, he thought as he curled up and held his head down bracing his head with clenched hands. At this point he was more than willing to let death take him; no one was coming to save him, no one cared for him. In his final shuddering breaths of despair, growing heavier and slower with every second, he failed to notice a screeching sound building up from behind the wall, or the flash of cobalt and violet that immediately came afterward.

A hole was blasted into the wall, with whitened smoke coming out of the singed sides, and in came the frantic form of Toothless. The dragon darted around in circles, desperately seeking his frightened boy. He heard Hiccup's call not with his ears, but could feel it in his soul, sensing the danger Hiccup was in and rushed to his rescue. He looked around and around, barely catching his boy's form huddled in the corner slipping into unconsciousness with death soon to follow. The Night Fury's horrified green eyes widened and he called out to grab his boy's attention. Hiccup's head snapped up at the familiar bark, and he managed to spot the dragon's black body even through the thick smoke with his injured eyes.

"T-Toothless…" He rasped, his voice ragged by the smoke. He thought he was hallucinating for a moment, but the dragon's attempts to claw away at the debris that had fallen right in front of him had convinced him otherwise. With shaky feet he stood up to try and reach him.

"Toothl-"

Before he could mutter out any more, a piece of the roof fell down and collided right with his left eye. He screamed in pain, clutching his eye with both his hands, the agony of the fresh burn unbearable to the child. He stumbled and crouched down, crying freely, sobbing and shrieking uncontrollably while the burn throbbed; Toothless, seeing his boy's pain, went completely ballistic. He blasted through the wood with splinters flying everywhere, and he rushed right over to Hiccup, crooning and whimpering for the injured child. He tried to lick the wound, but Hiccup only kept it tightly covered to stave off the tormenting injury, so the dragon just settled for curling close to the boy.

But more falling debris alerted the dragon to the still-present danger they both faced; Hiccup would surely die if they remained here a second longer. He nudged Hiccup back to his senses and scooped him up in his paws, grasping onto the boy tightly and pressing his body to his chest. He spread his wings and took flight through the open hole, taking off into the open sky and quickly fleeing the burning island. Toothless took one last look back at the horrible island where his boy endured constant pain and snarled in hatred at it. Never again would they hurt his boy, never would he suffer at their hands, because never again would they return to this wretched place.

The two flew for a short distance before approaching a small nearby island, Toothless gently landing and blowing away a few stray leaves. For the most part it seemed uninhabited, no signs of human settlements or even human presence anywhere. As far as the dragon could see it was nothing but tall pine trees surrounding them, save for a clearing with a small lake filled with pure, sparkling water. There was even a little cave right by the lake to offer shelter for the two of them. It was just like the cove, except without the large walls of stone to make it seem like a prison. It was just as peaceful as well, all was silent just as it had been moments before Toothless discovered the fire. Here they would be safe to spend their days together, undisturbed and untouchable by the outside world.

He let the small boy loose from his grasp and looked down to him in sorrow, whimpering and nudging him for comfort. For a while Hiccup continued to press himself against Toothless, kneeled down on the ground covering his face in the dragon's scaly belly. Hiccup finally looked up at his dragon and let go of his eye, now scarred with a red and black burn just like the rest of his body. His eye was squinted in pain, more than likely never to open fully again and the brow was mostly gone, a few scratches filling the empty spots along it. Both eyes were the same in how they soon filled up with rivers of tears, the dams finally breaking loose.

He sobbed silently a few times, but then went all out and began to cry without pause, the fear and sorrow all catching up with him at last. He had come so close to death, his own people, a member of his family had tried to take his life. Hiccup had never been so terrified, he felt as though his heart had stopped; it had been so close, it had nearly taken him. He felt completely paralyzed against it, unable to move or even think, just waiting for the flames to burn him to ashes. He could still feel himself shiver and with each second longer he sobbed he gasped in the air that had been robbed from his body, trying desperately to dismiss it as a horrible nightmare.

Hiccup hugged the Night Fury tightly, just wanting the fear and the pain to go away, letting it all out in his overflowing tears. Toothless returned the sad embrace with both his paws and his wings, hiding Hiccup in a black cocoon and nuzzling him tenderly. Whatever the dragon could do to erase the sadness his boy felt, he would do it.

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><p>Stoick the Vast was just finishing off a Monstrous Nightmare, punching it over and over into submission, long forgoing the usage of his hammer. His mighty fist crashed with the dragon's jawline again and again, even knocking out a few teeth in the process. The dragon tried to fight back with its fire breath, but it had run out of shots, no longer possessing enough gas to fuel the flames. It lashed its tail out, but Stoick caught it in his hands and swung it back around, lifting the dragon in the air and sending it hurling away. The dragon, no longer willing to take such abuse, backed away and flapped its wings to take off into the air.<p>

Soon all the dragons began their retreat, some managing to take catches of sheep. Yaks, and fish, others simply escaping with their lives. Those that weren't so lucky, still remaining trapped under bolas, were cornered by groups of Vikings, and ultimately killed and gutted or taken over to the cells in the arena, where they would be locked up to never again see the light of day. The damage had been done, every building on the island had been set alight in flames, soon set to collapse; the Vikings knew the repairs that would come after would take a good few weeks' worth of work. To say nothing of the numerous fishing trips that would have to be undertaken in order to replace the stores they had lost, and no one was looking forward to that. But right now was a moment of celebration for the valiant defense of their home – with honor and courage did they drive off the dragons once more. They raised their axes in hearty cheers, crying out amongst the roaring flames.

Stoick stood at the front of his men, still with a hardened look on his face. "Well done men! But remember we have only won the battle. The devils'll be back again, they always are."

Some people could accuse Stoick of being a pessimist, but he was simply looking on the side of reality, not letting glory in battle delude him. He knew the dragons would return in greater numbers and pick them off one by one; it was a never ending struggle for supremacy. As much as he wanted his men to enjoy the honor they had won by killing the dragons, one victory in battle didn't mean much in the face of a war. The chieftain hefted his axe solemnly after having effectively killed the mood. "Now then, are we all present an' accounted for."

"Eh, looks like it." Gobber said hobbling out from the crowd. "Men here'll be damned if they let a dragon do them in." The men chuckled and laughed, even Stoick let out a simple chuckle.

"An' what of the women an' children over at the Great Hall?" He asked.

"All present an' accounted for." Called out another Viking from the crowd. Stoick quickly noticed how he turned away afterwards and turned to face him accordingly.

"But…?" Stoick asked, but the man remained silent.

"Stoick, Stoick!" Cried out a voice from the crowd. From between the Vikings charged in Spitelout, a look of fear and panic on his face that was clearly faked. He heavily panted and his eyes were wide and bulbous, only adding to his performance. Luckily for him, no one seemed to be any wiser to his charade, not even his brother.

"What is it, Spitelout?" Stoick asked.

"Brother, it-it's Hiccup!" He cried, instantly alerting Stoick to full attention. "He wasn't in the Great Hall, we can't find him anywhere!"

Stoick gasped in terror and raced off towards the Great Hall, searching fervently for his son in the crowds of children, women, and elders that poured out. The women asked him what his troubles were, but he only paid attention to the young ones that were coming out. As hard as he looked, Hiccup was not among them, even the group of Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, and the Thorston twins. Hiccup should have known to get into the Great Hall at the first sign of an attack, the apparentness that he hadn't was able to revitalize some anger within him. After how their argument ended he wasn't in the mood to deal with any Hiccup-related problems, but the boy was still his son nonetheless.

"Hiccup!" He called out, growing steadily terrified. "Hiccup, where are you?"

"I saw him!" A voice called out, and Stoick turned to its source. There was the young Snotlout Jorgenson, his nephew, his friends already having reunited with their parents. The look of fear on his face seemed to be inherited from his father, and just as false. "He ran into that shed over there to try and hide from the dragons!"

Snotlout pointed over to the shed, and Stoick's breath seized to find it had mostly been burned away to nothing. He quickly rushed over to the shed and reached out to bang on the door in the hopes that Hiccup might be able to hear him. But before he could even raise his hand, the last bit of support on the shed had broken apart, and the building collapsed in on itself. A flash of flames reached out as the wood crashed down, and the fire continued to burn at the remains until nothing was left. Stoick's distraught eyes were fixated on the ruins of the shed keeping his eyes on it until the last flicker died out. By then the others had caught up to him, informed of the situation by Snotlout, watching the flames died with him. No one in the ranks that had gathered dared to speak out in the face of the horrid reality, no one could really find any words to say.

"Hiccup…" Stoick hoarsely whispered. He heavily dropped to his knees at the sight, just staring with dead eyes at the house his son died in.

Gobber finally hobbled up, placing a gentle hand on Stoick's shoulder. "It's not your fault Stoick. The lad only tried ta get to safety." He turned away guiltily. "I shoulda kept him in the forge where he was, but I… ah thought fur sure he'd make it."

Stoick said nothing, he remained frozen in place, a broken man by the loss. Once again the dragons had robbed him of a loved one, first his wife, and now his son. How much more would they take until they were satisfied? Stoick would now never get to see Hiccup grow into a man, into a proper chief and dragon slayer, he would never get to fight alongside him and attain glory together as father and son. He would never see his wife's reflection in his son again, in those green eyes and locks of auburn hair that so greatly resembled Valka's. His last connection to her was gone, and he had only helped to push it away.

"Such a great tragedy…" Spitelout muttered. "The boy had only begun to live, had yet to earn his place in Valhalla. Now… he shall never know peace…" Hiccup had not died a warrior, so he would be denied access to Valhalla where only courageous warriors could feast with Odin, Thor and the rest. He had now been cast into the depths of Helheim and be forced to serve in Loki's armies, only knowing eternal torment until the day of Ragnarok. Stoick could not bear the thought that he and his child would come to stand on opposing sides at the battle of world's end. He bent down in shame with his fur cape draped over his back, the others all looking at their chief with pity.

"I am so sorry, brother…" Spitelout said.

But Stoick could hear nothing, the world turned to black around him save for the wreck that was now the grave of his son. "Hiccup…"

* * *

><p><strong>So there you have it, Hiccup was almost killed. Good news is, he's not on Berk anymore.<strong>

**Alright, now let me clarify what's going to happen. I have decided to split this story into arcs, like 'To Tame a Land.' This is the first arc that explains Hiccup's origins, and from here on out the next chapters are going to be for the intent of character development. More good news is this is now where some of the more interesting stuff begins to happen, including the action.**

**Now then, with this chapter done, I am going to take a little break – I am on Winter vacation after all. As stated before I am probably going to update either on every second Saturday now or whenever I get the chapter finished. In the meantime I look forward to your 'I really hate Spitelout and wish he would die' comments in the reviews.**

**As always, review, favorite, follow!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, there people! Thanks to all your patience and a special thanks to those who favorite, followed, and commented during the long period of silence. I am happy to post up my first chapter of 2015!**

**I read some of your posts in the review section – I gotta say, you guys are dark. But as much as you want to see Spitelout get what's coming to him, Berk is gonna be out of the picture for a while. For now, we'll be focusing on Hiccup's adventures as he deals with the aftereffects of his traumatic experience. We'll be going through a few timeskips, but nothing too big – I'm not going to automatically fast-forward to the good stuff. There are several key steps we need to take along the way – every chapter going onwards for the rest of this first 'arc', I like to call it, will have significance to who Hiccup is going to be for the remainder of the story.**

**On that note, I'm probably not going to be able to post as often. I've got classes starting up soon – winter break is over, boohoo. But I'll try to devote some time to working on this and my other story and get those chapters up as soon as I can. With that being said, enjoy!**

**All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.**

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><p>Hiccup was awoken to the start of another new day in his life of self-imposed exile by the gentle stirrings of tweeting birds and droplets of water coming from the ceiling of their cavern home. He blinked his weary right eye open and rubbed it clear of any residual traces of sleepiness. Heavy bags had formed under them from many nights of restless slumber, bolting awake mere minutes after closing his eyes and lying there for the night's duration, even when nestled close to his companion Toothless. Said dragon was nestled on the floor right next to him, still sleeping with his wings and legs sprawled out without his thin frame to grip upon. Hiccup took the greatest caution not to disturb the friend who had been so good to him in his time of need and tiptoed quietly away towards the entrance of the cave.<p>

Stopping at the opening, he shielded his one free eye with the shadow of his arm to allow himself to adjust to the outside light. Once he'd managed to blink away his discomfort, he surveyed the natural scene before him: the lake shimmered with the first rays of dawn, light rippling across the water's surface to reveal the small fish that swam beneath it. The long stalks of grass and the pine needles on the tress swayed from the morning breeze, carrying the fresh ocean and forest air that grazed his face. As always when he inhaled it into his tiny lungs, though, it did nothing to refresh his spirits as the boy sagged and sighed once more.

Two years had passed since they first arrived on this little islet, two years had they been living together – just him and his dragon. Every day came and passed just as the one before and the boy was sure the next would in just the same fashion, spanning out together into a large blur of time apart from the place he once called home. His appearance had changed greatly in that time, having retained the scars of his torment to the point where he became a living symbol of it, a shadow of his former self. His clothes were torn and ragged, stained with dirt and with frayed ends of dangling thread, while the fur on the tunic and boots had either been hardened and soiled or lost leaving bare spots of the underlying textiles revealed. As thin as he was before, now he was nearly skeletal, with his ribs exposed – even the wild game that Toothless hunted for him and the wild berries he picked in the forest could not satiate him well enough due to his lack of an appetite.

His most distinguishing features were the burns he now sported all over his body, leaving blistering red spots all over his forearms and legs. Particularly bad burns were located around his wrists in splotches that varied in size, nearly engulfing the entirety of them due to his thinness. He could feel the lack of blood managing to reach his limbs, his hands always feeling cold; when exposed to any foreign element, they would sting so badly he would barely be able to clench his fingers.

The most noteworthy scar he now carried was the one placed upon his left eye, now a darker shade of red than the others to indicate the severity of it. The skin around it was now tender and leathery, and the phantom pains it caused were enough to make the child scream some nights, clutching it while enduring the full recollected fury of the inferno that first left the wretched scar before it returned to a state of numbness. He found in the first few months that the vision the injured eye granted was limited, at times either blurred or doubled, with constant migraines caused in addition. Though the discomfort had lessened in time, no amount of licks from Toothless or fresh water could soothe the pain, and witnessing its reflection every time he went to the lake had just become too painful after a long enough time. Ultimately, he resorted to tearing off one of the sleeves of his tunic and ripping it in half, using the strips as makeshift bandages to conceal his ruined face.

Hiccup blinked a few more times to keep himself awake, though tiredness gripped him like the hand of his father on his collar. In the lucky few nights he was able to get more than a few hours' rest, Hiccup would be plagued by nightmares of the incident where he waited for his death in that burning shack and heard the mocking voices of his peers as his final countdown. It was this traumatic experience that left him with his greatest dilemma, the source of all his suffering, both physical and mental.

Hiccup had developed a terrible fear of fire, with his sight often bearing the glare of the campfires Toothless made for him to keep him warm. Each and every time Toothless even let out a spark of flame, Hiccup would panic and shriek uncontrollably while scampering away to the far end of the cavern wall, clawing with his fingers upon the ground when he collapsed and continued on all fours. He would break into a cold sweat and breathe heavily while trying to push back farther in to get as far as possible from the fire that kept his gaze locked upon it in a burning steel trap. Toothless would always have to wrap around him with his entire body and hold him as close as possible just to calm the frightened child down, purring and crooning and giving him small licks – whatever gesture of comfort he could give. They would remain that way long after the fire died out and Hiccup would still be trying to pull himself together until he could finally close his eyes; it was the way they always ended up retiring for the evening.

The dragon in question had finally stirred himself after a large yawn and a stretch of his legs, shaking his head and seeing Hiccup right at the entrance. Apart from growing larger to where he was now about a head-and-a-half taller than his boy, his appearance had mostly remained the same. His ears dropped and his tail dragged as he walked up to the boy's side, giving him a soft nuzzle and a warble of greeting. Hiccup only glanced once and absentmindedly scratched his forehead while still looking outward at their island home.

"Morning, Toothless," he rasped in an exhausted, saddened voice.

Toothless gazed at him with large black orbs filled with worry – as always nothing had changed regarding his boy's condition. The years spent in agony over his condition had taken a deep toll on his spirits. Hiccup never smiled anymore, never laughed, showed little to no trace of the curious, awestruck child he had been on the day they met. He did retain his kind spirit and talked to him a lot, but other than that it was like he was barely alive.

Hiccup started to make his way slowly down the hill towards the lake, moving slowly and rather dizzily along the slope walkway. Unable to even move in a straight line, he had to hold onto Toothless, who galloped over to walk alongside him, for support. His breaths were shallow and his vision blurred once more, while at the same time feeling sick to his stomach from the stress. Though he eventually made it to the lake, with Toothless settling him down gently.

He dipped his injured arms and hands into the water, yelping with the return of the sting as the burns inflamed. It was a common practice of his to use water to try and help the burns, though the temperature was far too cold in those first few moments. The dull pain lingered moments after the initial dip, but a soothing feeling had started to work its way in as well; Hiccup exhaled out in slight relief with his breathing slowed and calmed.

He took a few moments to wash his face after settling down and rose himself steadily onto his feet. Toothless offered a supportive crutch of himself once more as they headed towards the small stream that fed into the lake to have a small drink of fresh water. The cold fluid stung at his hands once again, each drop feeling like icy needles and made even worse with the addition of the wind. But Hiccup managed to bear it while he took sips from the water gathered in his palms to nourish his parched throat.

Toothless only warbled sadly when Hiccup turned to him with a face that desperately tried to brighten, only to fail. "Come on, Toothless. Let's go get some breakfast…"

The Night Fury bowed down and let Hiccup climb onto his back to keep him from tiring himself out while they headed for the forest. If there was one noticeable change in Toothless over the course of their time together, it was that he had become extremely overprotective of his boy. Toothless was hell-bent on keeping the damaged child safe from any harm, actual, potential, or even just imaginary. He wanted to make sure Hiccup was in his sight every moment of the day, and would not let him leave the cave unsupervised even for a single second. He growled and snapped at every living creature that moved towards Hiccup, from the tiniest bird or squirrel to even the wild dragons that flew by from time to time. Most of the animals by now did not dare to approach him knowing the dangerous young dragon was close by, but those that did usually never got any further than five feet before a plasma blast warned them that that was as far as they went. It was as if the dragon had suddenly made it his life's mission to protect him; this sheer resolve was only hardened further by how close he had come to losing Hiccup that night. The memory of Hiccup burning, just waiting for his doom to come in that shed, always made him grip the boy's body a little tighter, his roar ten times louder, and his claws sink into hostiles thrice as hard. If it was what it took to protect his friend, Toothless would gladly become the ruinous devil the humans believed him to be.

But though such sentiment from the dragon was appreciated, it made things difficult for Hiccup as he tried to adapt to the pure wilderness. Toothless being the one who did all the hunting and foraging, basically pampering the boy, it left him unable to handle things on his own should a true crisis come into play. He had no idea how to take care of himself should he be hungry or sick, not knowing what fruits or plants would serve as medicinal herbs and what would kill him on the spot by poisoning him. Hiccup mentally scolded himself for being stupid enough not to remember Gothi's lessons in medicine – such lessons would have certainly come in handy when treating his burns. Then again, he never expected to be forced to fend for himself on an uncharted island with a dragon as his only companion after nearly being murdered at the hands of his former tribesmen.

They had just now reached the forest, being reminded of the one where they first met back on Berk. Hiccup sighed heavily as the warm sunlight touched their faces in a very similar way as did the whispers of the trees on the wind. That forest was probably the only good memory he had of the island where he was most certain to be miserable for the rest of his days should Toothless never have come into his life. It represented safety to him, and with Toothless always waiting there in that cove to give him a happy nuzzle and a few licks, it felt like home. He wanted more than anything to feel that kind of shelter again in the tranquil openness of nature with his best friend, to know he was home.

Stupid, he thought. He didn't have a home anymore.

* * *

><p>Walking towards the nearest bush, Hiccup saw a good amount of berries that would appease his appetite for a while. He slowly climbed off Toothless and walked over to pick each berry into his open palm. Toothless stayed close while darting around on full alert to make sure no creature lied in wait to attack Hiccup. Hiccup wiped off the berries with his shirt to remove any lingering dirt and swallowed them all into his mouth, chewing slowly and then gulping them down. To any other it would have barely been considered a meal, but his stomach had little room for anything else.<p>

Hiccup wiped his mouth clean and turned back to Toothless. "Alright, bud. I'm finished; let's go back to the cave."

Toothless warbled in defiance. A handful of berries did not count as a full breakfast; Hiccup would be sooner to starve himself on a diet such as that. Humans' stomachs may not have needed as much food as dragons', but Toothless knew the boy would need more food in order to heal properly.

He sniffed the ground looking for an adequate source of nourishment, anything more filling than some tiny little fruits on a bush. Other than dirt and grass, he managed to catch the scent of a few small animals, a rabbit and some squirrels, with just enough meat to keep Hiccup going for a few hours.

He ducked his head in between the boy's legs, earning a startled yelp in return, and followed the scent of the rabbit first. Toothless made sure to even his pace so as to keep the unstable boy from falling off, yet quick enough to close in on the rabbit in a few seconds. The scent had gotten much stronger just as they approached a smaller clearing in the forest close to a shoreline. Hiccup could smell the salty ocean air enter his nostrils, and it did help to bring back a little more of his appetite.

Breathing it in fully now, he remembered the invigorating rush he felt the last time he breathed it in with Toothless. To have felt so free while at the same time so bound, like a small plant growing from the ground to see the sky yet its roots kept it down to be trampled underneath the feet of others. He should have seen that those roots had been cut then, and realized the second he got on Toothless' back and they flew together just what kind of potential he had, what option was suddenly available with all his dreaming and wishing. They could have left in that moment, they could have left it all behind and never again. With another look at his singed hands Hiccup was starting to wonder if that would have been the better option for everyone.

Toothless' sudden stop snapped Hiccup out of his thoughts as his dragon had managed to track down the rabbit, brown and fuzzy, feasting on small blades of grass seed near the trees. Toothless crouched low to the ground and crept over to the creature silently, his paw steps carefully placed in between the small branches so as not to make a single noise. With his speed and experience in foraging, the rabbit would make an easy catch. Looking up at Hiccup to make sure he was still secured on his back, the Night Fury was slightly surprised to catch the smallest bit of drool coming from his lower lip. He couldn't really hide the sparkle of delight in his eyes or stop himself from smiling gummily; if Hiccup was feeling hungry that meant he was starting to get better.

In his excitement, the dragon pounced out a little too quickly, alerting the rabbit to them and scaring it away. The pair thought they had managed to catch it, but stepping away they only found empty ground beneath their feet. Toothless eagerly chased the small creature through the woods, with Hiccup wrapping his bony limbs around his neck to hold on. With his weakened strength, his grip could only be maintained for a few minutes before he finally slipped off and tumbled to the ground. He rolled onto the dirt and felt a few pebbles puncture his skin, shots of pain coming in from both his arms and legs when he had finally managed to stop.

Hiccup picked himself up and looked towards where Toothless had run off chasing the rabbit. "Toothless? Toothless!?" He called out, but the dragon didn't come.

Getting on his feet, Hiccup continued to stare in the direction Toothless went, being alerted suddenly that this was the first time since arriving on this island that he was left alone. Toothless had always been by his side to provide for him, and in an instant his protective dragon was taken from his side. Hiccup wasn't expecting such a change of circumstances and it did frankly unnerve him a bit as he took in his surroundings. The trees surrounding him were much thicker, and blocked out more sunlight than those at the entrance, making that particular area a little darker. Huddling into himself, he began to feel a little scared wandering around, that instinctual fear every child had of shadows and darkness being triggered by his new surroundings. He walked forward nonetheless, trying to see if he could catch up to Toothless. It was unlikely though at the slow pace he was going, at a walking speed slightly slower than his usual one but he had hope that maybe Toothless would come back for him once he noticed he was gone.

"Toothless?" His cries out to the Night Fury were steadily growing weaker each time with the fear beginning to creep into his tone. "Where are you?"

He soon found himself jumping at every noise he heard and his pulse quicken with every second he walked. He feared that at any moment, some dangerous creature was going to pounce out and tear him to ribbons. The wildlife he'd heard about to be living in the forests of Berk were indigenous to most islands: boars, wolves, even bears, though he had never actually seen any. He didn't really want to take the chance that he would run into any such animals now in his current state. Even newborns of those species would be able to rip him to pieces.

To make matters worse, he felt by now he was going around in circles, straying from the path after unknowingly taking several turns. Toothless had to be completely out of hearing range, though with his timid voice Hiccup doubted his dragon would be able to hear him even if he strained his own ears. The boy didn't notice it, but the forest seemed to get darker and darker along the way. More sunlight was being blocked out by overgrown needles, leaves, and vines, and now only tiny prickles of it were able to reach the ground. It was hardly enough to illuminate the whole area, and to Hiccup's shaky sight it looked as black as night. Even if Toothless were right next to him right now he wouldn't be able to see the Night Fury's pure black body.

Hiccup was now losing what little stable wits he still possessed. He was beginning to hyperventilate looking around and around, stopping any forward progress and just turning around feeling like he was being closed in. The small pockets of light were starting to disappear in his eyes while he just watched with his heart racing and his face dripping with sweat. He backed away from the fading light until he felt his back press against something that felt to be a tree. At that point he just closed his eyes and begged the gods to let Toothless find him so they could go back to the cave and he could forget this ever happened.

A sharp burst of light accompanied by a loud whoosh startled Hiccup to something right behind him. The faint glow he saw chasing away the darkness in front of him was colored a bright orange, one that haunted him every time night settled in. And his suspicion to what it was did not settle him in any way.

He turned around and his eye snapped open wide at the form of a man dressed head to toe in form-fitting black armor. Two belts fastened to a symbol atop a leather cuirass on his chest, double-layered pauldrons on his shoulders and vambraces with holsters on his arms. Underneath his leather armor seemed to be a one-piece fabric that outlined his lithe and powerful body with sewn lines. Black faulds on his hips, black harnesses wrapped around his legs, and thin knee-length boots covered his lower body. A black helmet concealed his face from Hiccup's view, with sharp flaps similar to Toothless' own, and two eyeholes, one opened and one slit, completely obscured by shadow.

The man was an intimidating figure to say the least, but what caught the boy's attention at that very moment and drew the utmost feelings of terror was what he held in his hand. A long weapon, a sword, longer than most with an intricately crafted hilt with all sorts of parts and dragon wings extended at the sides.

And the blade was lit with fire.

Hiccup was frozen in place, his gaze dead centered on the flaming blade, just watching its menacing sparks fly free. With the flames came a myriad of darkened thoughts and memories, and in viewing all of them his heart pounded from inside, crashing so audibly he could actually hear it in his ears. He couldn't breathe anymore, his stomach was twisting into painful knots, and all his burns suddenly came to life again. He finally reacted after a few moments – with a terrible shriek and a desperate scramble away from the source. He ducked his head down while continuing to scream once he was a good ways away from the blade, yet the man showed no visible reaction to his outburst.

The man only watched him from where he stood – at least Hiccup thought he was watching since he couldn't really see his eyes. A few minutes passed and by then Hiccup had run out of air to scream with, yet he still cowered watching the flaming sword. But to his surprise, the flames eventually died out, exposing a pristine ebony blade that glistened with an almost ethereal radiance in the shadows even though there was no light to reflect off of it. With the fire gone, Hiccup could see all the runes and markings carved into the steel, but he was more interested in the blade as a whole. It was beautiful, amazing, but more than that, it seemed familiar…

It was the blade from his dream, he realized. Completed and very much functional.

Hiccup had experienced the dream several times in his stay, being transported back to that circular white chamber with all the pieces splayed out on that table. He had accurately guessed from his repeated experiences that he was supposed to create a working weapon from all those tiny little bits. But throughout the years he could only managed to connect a few pieces together, and that was from hours of fiddling with them. He barely even remembered what the finished product was supposed to look like, and from what he knew of swords they certainly didn't require as many components as that. Some looked like they would be more at home on a bow, like the string, and he found a strange barrel-like piece that he had never seen in his life. To make matters even more difficult his thoughts were clouded and shaky from continuous visions of the night his life was attempted on. The more he worked on that thousand-piece puzzle with no clue of the end result, the more stress he seemed to create for himself. But he hadn't had the dream for over a month now – he figured his subconscious or whatever was causing him to have the dream was finally cutting him a much-needed break.

The man lowered his blade down to his side and took off into the forest without warning. Hiccup was still shaken, but upon noticing the man leave, followed right after him. "H-Hey, wait a minute!" He cried. "Come back!"

The chase went onwards further and further into the woods, with Hiccup swatting low hanging branches after the stranger. It was strange but it almost appeared as if he was vanishing into thin air. He disappeared for one second only to reappear again in another direction, either on the ground or up above jumping nimbly from tree branch to tree branch. Hiccup also noticed how the man moved without a sound, no footsteps or rustling of leaves, nor did the trees give a little in response to his weight, as if he weighed nothing at all. It was like the man wasn't even really there – could he have been some kind of ghost?

Hiccup spotted a patch of light up ahead while pursuing the man, who vanished heading towards it himself. Shielding his eyes as he approached, Hiccup soon found himself at the edge of the forest overlooking a small meadow with a beach nearby. Over at the meadow in between a sparse amount of mid-sized trees was a small cabin that only looked to have space for a couple of rooms. The cabin had shattered windows and holes in the walls and roof with rotting wood debris scattered everywhere; it indicated that this little house had been abandoned for some time. Hiccup looked around the deserted area, but there was no trace of the man anywhere.

He stepped out to take a look around regardless and try and track down the man. His mind was racing with questions that this armored stranger no doubt had the answers to. Why was he having such strange dreams? What was that weapon, and why did he have to make it? What was that strange hall he always found himself in? And just who was he, for that matter? He had enough problems on hand between his trauma and now a missing dragon to worry about nonsensical visions and wild heroic fantasies based on the unlikely pairing of a child and dragon. After years of searching the gods, trying to make sense of everything that had happened to him, he just wanted to know what was going on, and better yet, how to put an end to it.

The boy was cut off from his inner musings when he was tackled to the ground by something large and heavy. Slammed against the ground, he barely had a second to recover from the sharp, pounding throb in the back of his head when he was assaulted by something long and slimy licking against his face over and over in a frantic manner. The first thing he met when he opened his eyes was a pair of green eyes with black orbs filled with relief.

"Toothless!" He cried. The dragon crooned and warbled with happiness to see that he was alright, and nuzzled his head against Hiccup's cheek. Hiccup hugged his friend's large head and stroked his jawline, earning happy purrs from Toothless. "So I take it you didn't catch that rabbit?" He joked, but Toothless, thinking Hiccup might have been disappointed, ducked his head and let his ears droop down.

"Aw, bud, it's okay… I'm just glad you're here." He mumbled while petting the dragon's head again. Toothless responded with a light nudge to the forehead.

Hiccup jolted to attention suddenly and grabbed Toothless' head to ensure he had the Night Fury's full attention. "Hey, Toothless, did you see a man wandering around? He was dressed in black armor and had a weird-looking sword, and his face was covered with a mask – see anybody like that?" Toothless only cocked his head and rumbled in confusion, enough hint to let Hiccup know that he hadn't. The boy sighed and rubbed his head to soothe the throbbing in his cranium. Perhaps there hadn't really been anyone there at all, and he had just imagined some presence where there was only air and darkness. He had been delirious from panic – it was indeed possible that the man he saw had simply been a hallucination brought about by stress. Given the poor visibility and his failing eyesight, at the most it could have only been a small animal.

Or so he thought, until suddenly he turned away and faced the log cabin, where he found the armored stranger standing a few feet away from the front door. He appeared to be looking at him, but Hiccup couldn't really tell; even in the broad daylight, the open eyehole of the man's mask still blocked out completely. Hiccup stood up as quickly as he could, causing Toothless to jerk his head away while watching his boy point with a shaky finger.

"I-It's him! Toothless, it's him – there he is!" Hiccup shouted to the dragon, but other than the immediate response of surprise at his outburst, Toothless didn't react to the man in any way whatsoever. He just sat back down looking at the space Hiccup pointed to, then back to Hiccup, then back at the space again. Hiccup just stared at him in disbelief. "Toothless, what are you doing? He's right there, can't you see!?"

And that was just the thing – he couldn't. To Toothless, there wasn't anything there but a human home long ruined by dragons most likely, and left with the elements to tear it down further. No matter how Hiccup screamed or how hard he focused his eyes with the boy's assurance, there was absolutely no one there. Hiccup only looked at his dragon disbelievingly until he had started to get this impression that the mysterious man was invisible to Toothless. Maybe he was the only one that could see the man – maybe he was hallucinating after all. He saw the man step towards the battered door of the house, but rather than open the door like any normal human would, the figure instead faded away just as he reached it.

Startled, Hiccup chased after the man once more, with Toothless following close behind, starting to worry even more for his boy's well-being. With his solid material form, Hiccup couldn't follow in the stranger's example and instead grabbed the door and swung it open. The hinges on the door had been so weak that by the time the door opened fully they broke loose; Hiccup had been forced to let go as the door fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Looking inside the old house, he saw the remains of what assumedly was furniture, broken and ripped apart, littered all over the place. From desks and shelves to tables and chairs, along with a cold fireplace with several stones missing from it: those were the only things discernible from what could best be put as garbage. Several of the support beams had been cracked and toppled over, crashed on top of the wrecked furniture – it was honestly a surprise the whole house hadn't given way yet with this dilemma. With all the light filtering in from the old windows, Hiccup had a clear view of everything, even the dirt that had collected on the ripped fabrics littered around, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

"Just what is going on?" Hiccup asked, fervently wondering if he would ever really know.

* * *

><p><strong>Hiccup's having a rough time of it, eh? But the fic is called Dragon's Hero, and most heroes do have to undergo great trials in order to become who they are. Hope your excited for how this turns out, and remember, if you have any suggestions, let me know and I'll see what I can do.<strong>

**As always, review, favorite, follow. Till next time!**


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